TRINITY  COLLcul 
LIBRARY  C 


DURHAM,  NORTH  CAROLINA 


Ree’d .. . N j Q.Y. X ? .!? 5? 


vyssH'b. 


WOMEN  OF  COLONIAL  AND 
REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES 


DOLLY  MADISON 

BY  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN 


WITH  PORTRAIT 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 
NEW  YORK 


MCCCCI 


Copyright , r8qb,  by 
Charles  Scribner' s Sons 


SBmtjerat'iD 

John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.  S.A. 


TO 

HILDA  HAWTHORNE  GOODWIN. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/dollymadison01good_0 


PREFACE 


Thackeray , in  the  leginning  of  his  lectures  on 
the  Four  Greorges,  makes  loving  mention  of  a 
charming  lady  of  the  old  school , whose  life  ex- 
tended far  back  into  the  last  century.  “ I often 
thought ,”  he  says , “ as  I took  my  kind  old 
friend’s  hand,  how  with  it  I held  on  to  the  old 
society  of  wits  and  men  of  the  world.” 

Fven  such  a link  ivith  the  past,  to  those  of  us 
at  least  who  have  reached  middle  age , is  Mrs. 
Madison.  This  life  of  hers  which  almost  or  quite 
touched  ours , touched  also  the  lives  of  Alexander 
Hamilton  and  Aaron  Burr,  of  Decatur  and 
Somers  and  Paul  Jones,  of  Talleyrand  and 
Lafayette  and  Jefferson , ivhile  she  was  u dear 
Dolly,”  to  the  spouse  of  Washington  himself. 
Her  life  was  so  deeply  influenced  by  its  envi- 
ronment, and  its  significance  depended  so  largely 
upon  the  people  and  events  with  ivhich  it  was 
connected,  that  I feel  that  no  apology  is  necessary 
for  the  effort  I have  made  to  present  in  this 
volume  less  a formal  biography  than  a sketch  of 
the  social  and  domestic  life  of  the  epoch  as  it 
affected  Dolly  Madison. 

vii 


PREFACE 


The  authorities  ( outside  of  unpublished  letters 
and  contemporary  newspapers')  upon  which  1 
have  relied  are  as  follows : For  the  general  his- 
tory of  the  United  States,  the  volumes  of  Winsor , 
Adams  and  McMaster.  For  local  history  and 
tradition , the  standard  histories  of  Virginia , 
Meade’s  Old  Churches  and  Families  of  Vir- 
ginia, the  biographies  of  Virginia  Statesmen 
and  the  Journal  of  a Young  Lady  of  Vir- 
ginia. For  the  picture  of  Philadelphia  life,  The 
Friends’  Monthly  Meeting  Records,  Watson’s 
Annals  of  Philadelphia,  Grraydons  Memoirs, 
Quakers  in  Pennsylvania  ( one  of  the  Johns 
Hopkins  studies),  the  privately  printed  Journal 
of  Elizabeth  Drinker , the  sketches  of  travel  left 
by  Robin,  Chastellux , de  Liancourt,  Timothy 
Twining  and  Wansey , and  the  letters  of  Fisher 
Ames  and  Jeremiah  Smith  ; for  personal  details 
in  the  life  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison , the  Madi- 
son Papers , both  published  and  unpublished,  in 
the  State  Department  at  Washington,  A Colored 
Man’s  Reminiscences  of  James  Madison,  the 
Life  and  Times  of  Madison  (Rives'),  The  Life  of 
James  Madison  (Gray),  Letters  and  other  Writ- 
ings of  James  Madison,  and  Selected  Extracts 
from  his  Correspondence,  edited  by  McGruire  ; 
The  Letters  of  Mrs.  Madison  published  with  a 
Memoir  by  her  grand-niece  ; the  letters  of  Joel 
Barlow,  Thomas  Jefferson,  John  and  Abigail 


PREFACE 


Adams,  John  Randolph,  James  Monroe,  W.  W. 
Sullivan,  the  Seatons,  and  Aaron  Burr ; the 
Retrospect  of  Western  Travel,  by  Harriet  Marti- 
neau,  and  the  Polk  Diary  ( unpublished ) which 
by  the  courtesy  of  the  Lenox  Library,  L have 
been  enabled  to  see.  Brief  sketches  of  Mrs. 
Madison,  yielding  much  entertaining  gossip,  I 
have  found  in  the  papers  of  the  National  Por- 
trait G-allery ; The  Court  Circles  of  the  Repub- 
lic, Queens  of  American  Society;  Our  Early 
Presidents,  their  Wives  and  Families ; Worthy 
Women  of  the  Last  Century ; Ladies  of  the 
White  House,  and  Homes  of  American  States- 
men. 

My  thanks  for  assistance  are  particularly 
due  to  Mr.  Ainsworth  R.  Spofford,  Mr.  Fred- 
erick D.  Stone,  Mr.  Adrian  H.  Joline,  Mr. 
James  L.  Pennypacker , Mr.  Paul  L.  Ford, 
Mr.  Charles  Collins,  Miss  Emily  V.  Mason, 
Mrs.  Adele  Cutts  Williams,  Mr.  Henry  D. 
Biddle,  and  Mr.  Detrick  of  Montpellier. 


IX 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I— CHILDHOOD 

Dolly  Payne  the  little  Hanover  County  Maid— Birth- 
Ancestry— Life  on  a Virginia  Plantation— Education 
of  Women  in  the  Eighteenth  Century— Children’s 
Patriotism 1 

II—  A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 

Removal  of  John  Payne’s  Family  to  Philadelphia — The 
Quaker  City  and  its  old  Landmarks — The  Belles  and 
Bea  ix — Their  Dress— Philadelphia  Society — Haddon- 
field  and  its  Frolics — The  Quaker  Memorial  against 
Slavery— “ Crucifying  Expenses  ” of  Philadelphia  Life 
— Failure  of  John  Payne— Marriage  of  Dolly  Payne  to 
John  Todd — A Quaker  Wedding 14, 

III—  FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 

Miniature  of  Dolly  Todd — Death  of  John  Payne — The 
Master  of  Scholars — Birth  of  John  Payne  Todd  and 
William  Temple  Todd — Yellow  Fever — Gray’s  Ferry — 

Death  of  John  Todd — Illness  of  Dolly  Todd  and  Death 
of  her  Infant  Son — John  Todd’s  Will 34 


IV— “THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON ” 

Madison  introduced  by  Aaron  Burr — Sketch  of  Madi- 
son’s Life — Previous  Love-affair — Marriage  of  Mr. 
Madison  and  Mrs.  Todd  at  “ Harewood  ” — Wedding 
Outfit  of  an  Eighteenth  Century  Bridegroom — Wedding 
Journey — Montpellier — Philadelphia  Gayeties — Inaugu- 
ration of  John  Adams — Close  of  Dolly  Madison’s  Life 

in  Philadelphia  . . 47 

xi 


CONTENTS 


l/— the  new  capital 

Washington  in  1801 — Abigail  Adams’  Impressions  of 
the  White  House — Jefferson  elected  President — Madi- 
son Secretary  of  State — English  and  French  Fashions 
— An  International  Episode — State  Dinner-Parties — 
Wigs 

VI—  WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF 

STATE 

Gilbert  Stuart’s  Portraits  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison — 
Marriage  of  Anna  Payne  to  Richard  Cutts — News  of 
the  Duel  between  Burr  and  Hamilton — Illness  of  Mrs. 
Madison— Visits  to  Monticello — Jefferson  re-elected — 
Mrs.  Madison’s  Knee  troublesome  — Visit  to  Philadel- 
phia — Dr.  Physick  — Social  Life  at  the  Capital  —Madi- 
son a Candidate  for  the  Presidency  — Death  of  Mrs. 
Payne  

VII—  IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 

Inauguration  of  Madison  — Inaugural  Ball  at  Long’s 
Hotel  — Mrs.  Madison  as  Mistress  of  the  White  House 
— Her  Drawing-room  —Washington  Irving’s  Visit  to  the 
Capital  — Anecdotes  illustrating  Dolly  Madison’s  Tact 
and  Kindness  — Letters  to  and  from  Joel  Barlow  and 
his  Family 

VIII—  WAR  CLOUDS 

Announcement  in  the  “National  Intelligencer” 
Changes  wrought  by  twenty  nine  Years  of  Peace  — 
Causes  of  the  War  — Attitude  of  the  Newspapers  — In- 
cident of  the  presentation  of  the  Macedonian  flag 
Madison’s  Mob  — Mrs.  Madison’s  Influence  in  assisting 
the  Administration  — Mrs.  Seaton’s  Account  of  a Dinner 
at  the  White  House — New  Year’s  Calls — Mrs.  Madison 
as  she  looked  in  1813 

IX—  THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 

Defenceless  State  of  Washington  in  1814— Weakness  of 
the  Government — News  of  the  British  Fleet  in  Chesar 
peake  Bay — The  British  marching  on  Washington — 
Consternation  in  the  City — Scenes  at  Bladensburg— 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Mrs.  Madison’s  Letter  describing  her  Personal  Experi- 
ences— Paul  Jennings’  Account — The  British  in  Posses- 
sion— Burning  of  public  Buildings — Flight  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Madison — Return  to  the  Capital — The  White 
House  iu  Ruins 16S 

X—  PEACE 

Arrival  of  the  Peace-messenger — Rejoicings  throughout 
the  Country — News  received  at  the  Octagon — Festivi- 
ties— Mrs.  Madison  the  most  popular  Person  in  tne 
United  States — Social  Events  of  the  Peace  Winter — 
Receptions  in  honor  of  General  Jackson — Close  of 
Madison’s  Administration  — Eulogies  upon  Mrs. 
Madison  . . 184 

XI—  LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 

Route  from  Washington  to  Montpellier— Description 
of  the  Madison  Homestead— An  old-fashioned  Garden — 
Madison’s  Mother — Dolly  Madison’s  Devotion  to  her — 

Letter  from  Madison  to  his  Nephew— Sketch  of  Payne 
Todd’s  Career — The  Madison  Correspondence — Gifts 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison 201 

XII—  VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 

The  always  Open  Doors  of  Montpellier— Distinguished 
Guests— Hospitalities  of  Monticello— Protest  of  Jeffer- 
son and  his  Daughter  against  the  excessive  Demands— 

Visit  of  Harriet  Martineau  to  Montpellier— Madison’s 
Feebleness — His  Views  on  Slavery 220 

XIII—  LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 

Shadows  gathering  over  Mrs.  Madison’s  Path — Death 
of  Jefferson — Breaking  up  of  the  Household  at  Monti- 
cello—Death  of  James  Monroe — Death  of  Madison’s 
Mother — Increasing  F eebleness  of  Madison — His  Death 
and  Burial  — Resolutions  offered  in  Congress — Letters 
to  and  from  President  Jackson 237 

XIV—  IV ASHING  TON  ONCE  MORE 

Lafayette  Square  — Dolly  Madison’s  House  — The 
White  House  Twenty  years  after — Differing  Estimates 
of  Mrs.  Madison’s  Age — Her  Poverty  — Kindness  of 
Daniel  Webster  — Levees  in  the  House  on  Lafayette 

Square  — President  Polk’s  Reception . 253 

xiii 


DOLLY  MADISON 


I 

CHILDHOOD 

“ The  swallows  must  have  twittered  too 
Above  her  head ; the  roses  blew 
Below,  no  doubt ; and  sure  the  South 
Crept  up  the  wall  and  kissed  her  mouth,  — 

That  wistful  mouth  which  comes  to  me 
Linked  with  her  name  of  Dorothy.” 

It  would  have  been  a bold  soothsayer  who 
had  ventured  to  predict  a brilliant  social  and 
worldly  career  for  the  little  maiden  who  in 
Revolutionary  days  went  tripping  along  the 
forest  paths,  under  the  shadow  of  Virginia 
pines,  to  the  old  field-school  in  Hanover  County, 
where  Dolly  Payne  learned  her  A B C’s. 

In  truth,  no  one  could  have  looked  less 
frivolous  than  this  demure  school-girl,  with  the 
sober  gown  reaching  to  the  toes  of  her  shoes,  the 
long  gloves  covering  her  dimpled  elbows,  and 
the  linen  mask  and  broad-brimmed  sun-bonnet, 
hiding  her  rosy  face.  Yet  an  eye  trained  to 
fortune-telling  might  perchance  have  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a glittering  chain  about  the  white 
l 1 


DOLLY  MADISON 


neck  under  the  close-pinned  kerchief,  and 
guessed  the  guilty  secret  of  hidden  finery  which 
it  held,  and  which  gave  the  lie  to  the  profes- 
sion of  a renounced  vanity  which  her  garb 
suggested. 

If  any  one  was  responsible  for  Dolly  Payne’s 
lapse  from  the  severe  simplicity  of  the  sect  of 
Friends  in  after  years,  it  must  have  been  the 
worldly-minded  grandmother  who,  in  this  early 
time,  supplied  the  bits  of  jewelry  worn  thus 
under  the  rose  of  Dolly’s  blushes. 

The  sins  of  vanity  and  secretiveness  met  with 
the  retribution  which  such  wickedness  merited, 
and  on  one  of  these  fine  summer  days,  after 
a woodland  wandering,  the  chain  and  bag  and 
finery  were  all  missing,  and  the  guilty  little 
heart  was  ready  to  burst  with  grief  over  the 
loss  of  its  treasures.  There  was  one  person  at 
least  to  whom  the  culprit  could  carry  the  story 
of  her  affliction,  — one  with  ear  always  open  and 
heart  always  full  of  sympathy  for  the  child  who, 
as  a baby,  had  been  laid  in  her  arms  and  hushed 
on  her  faithful  black  breast.  This  was  “ Mother 
Amy,”  a typical  southern  “ mammy,”  whose 
turbaned  head  had  nodded  many  a night  from 
dusk  till  dawn  over  little  Dolly’s  cradle  while 
her  soft  negro-voice  crooned  lullabies.  But 
that  was  in  the  days  of  Dolly’s  babyhood ; 
years  before  she  grew  into  a school-girl,  indif- 
2 


CHILDHOOD 


ferent  to  books  and  fond  of  dress,  as  she  con- 
tinued to  be,  in  her  simple,  natural  fashion  to 
the  end  of  life. 

His  Majesty,  King  George  III.,  still  ruled 
in  America  when  little  Dorothy  Payne  was 
born,  and  it  was  in  His  Majesty’s  Province 
of  North  Carolina  that  her  blue  baby  eyes  un- 
closed like  spring  violets,  on  the  twentieth  of 
May  in  the  year  1768. 1 

The  child  was  named  Dorothea  in  honor  of 
Dorothea  Spotswood  Dand ridge,  daughter  of 
Nathaniel  West  Dandridge,  and  grand-daughter 
of  the  long  remembered  Governor  Alexander 
Spotswood.  Nine  years  after  the  birth  of  her 
little  namesake,  this  lady  became  the  wife  of 
the  famous  orator  Patrick  Henry,  and  later  of 
Judge  Edmund  Winston,  both  cousins  of  Dolly 
Payne’s  mother.  By  her  marriage  with  Patrick 
Henry  she  added  nine  children  of  her  own  to 
the  six  left  him  by  his  first  wife. 

Large  families  were  the  fashion  in  old 
Colony  days,  and  by  every  hearth-stone,  of  rich 
and  poor  alike,  played  little  children  in  num- 
bers which  our  degenerate  age  would  reckon 
intolerably  burdensome.  Dolly  Payne’s  future 

i I have  accepted  this  date  which  is  given  upon  her  tomb- 
stone, in  preference  to  the  one  more  generally  received,  of 
1772,  for  many  reasons;  chiefly  because  Mrs.  Madison  was 
universally  spoken  of  among  her  contemporaries  as  over 
eighty  at  the  time  of  her  death  which  occurred  in  1849. 

3 


DOLLY  MADISON 


husband,  James  Madison,  was  the  oldest  of  many 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  Dolly,  herself  the  eld- 
est daughter,  was  followed  by  a train  of  younger 
children  to  whom,  in  after  years,  she  showed 
herself  a most  affectionate  and  devoted  sister, 
as  their  mutual  letters  amply  prove. 

Although  the  chances  of  a parental  visit 
placed  her  birth  in  North  Carolina,  Dolly  Payne 
had  good  right  to  call  herself  a child  of  that 
Virginia  which  she  loved  so  well.  A Virginian 
she  was  both  by  lineage  and  residence.  Pier 
grandfather,  John  Payne,  was  an  English  gen- 
tleman of  wealth  and  liberal  culture,  who  came 
over  to  Virginia  and  planted  himself  in  the 
county  of  Goochland,  which  lies  along  the 
northern  shore  of  the  James  River  above  Rich- 
mond. Pie  took  to  wife  Anna  Fleming.  This 
Colonial  dame  is  alleged  to  have  been  a descend- 
ant of  the  Earl  of  Wigton,  a Scotch  nobleman ; 
but  this  is  disputed,  and  as  Virginians  of  that 
day  were  wont  to  trace  their  ancestry  to  the 
aristocracy  of  Great  Britain  as  naively  as  the 
Roman  emperors  derived  theirs  from  the  gods, 
this  genealogy  must  be  taken  with  a grain  of 
salt  by  sober  students  of  history.  Of  Scottish 
descent,  however,  Mistress  Fleming  undoubt- 
edly was.  Her  son,  John  Payne,  junior,  the 
father  of  Dorothy,  migrated  in  his  turn  to  a 
plantation  in  North  Carolina  where  he  met, 

4 


CHILDHOOD 


courted,  and  married  Mary,  daughter  of  Wil- 
liam Coles,  who  came  from  Enniscorthy,  a 
town  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Slaney,  in 
County  Wexford,  Ireland. 

Thus  the  three  kingdoms  blended  their  di- 
verse strains  of  blood  in  the  little  maiden 
who  slipped  into  life  in  the  Colony  of  North 
Carolina  on  that  May  day  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  last  century,  and  traces  of  each  showed 
themselves  in  her  character,  as  it  developed. 
If  any  one  of  these  strains  predominated,  it 
was  that,  I should  say,  which  came  to  her 
through  Mary  Coles,  to  which  she  owed  her 
laughing  Irish  eyes,  her  heavy  eyebrows  and 
long  lashes,  her  black  curling  hair,  the  bril- 
liancy of  her  skin,  and  perchance,  the  smooth- 
ness of  her  tongue,  which,  despite  its  tutoring 
in  the  plain  “ thee  ” and  “ thou  ” of  Quaker 
speech,  and  the  strictness  of  Quaker  truth-tell- 
ing, always  suggested  in  its  softness  an  ances- 
try not  unacquainted  with  the  groves  and  the 
magic  stone  of  Blarney. 

Shortly  after  his  marriage  with  Mary  Coles, 
whom  he  had  wooed  and  won  in  the  teeth  of 
many  rivals,  John  Payne  the  younger  returned 
to  Virginia  and  settled  upon  an  estate  in 
Hanover  County,  which  lies  north  of  the  James 
River  to  the  eastward  of  Goochland  where  his 
father’s  home  was  situated,  and  at  no  great 

5 


DOLLY  MADISON 


distance  from  Coles  Hill,  the  maiden  home  of 
his  bride.  Here,  _ in  a mansion  somewhat 
grander  than  its  neighbors,  as  we  may  judge 
from  Mrs.  Madison’s  memories  of  it,  with  its 
brick  outbuildings  and  its  monumental  mantels 
of  marble,  John  Payne  lived  during  the  child- 
hood of  his  oldest  daughter.  On  this  Hanover 
County  plantation,  with  no  large  town  nearer 
than  Richmond,  the  little  Dorothy,  far  from 
the  world  and  its  distractions,  passed  the  days 
of  her  early  youth  in  that  close  companionship 
with  nature  which  makes  the  surest  foundation 
for  a happy  life,  as  she  herself  recognized  when, 
after  the  lapse  of  half  a century,  she  wrote  to 
her  sister  Anna,  from  her  estate  at  Montpellier, 
“ I wish,  dearest,  you  had  just  such  a country 
home  as  this.  I truly  believe  it  is  the  happiest 
and  most  true  life,  and  would  be  best  for  you 
and  for  your  children.” 

It  is  difficult  for  us,  who  live  in  the  age  of 
steam  and  electricity,  when  the  round  world  is 
circled  by  iron  rails  and  telegraph  wires,  to 
bring  vividly  before  our  minds  the  isolation  of 
such  an  estate  as  that  of  the  Paynes  in  Colonial 
Virginia.  Even  down  to  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution, roads  in  the  southern  colonies  were  few 
and  rudely  made,  and  the  rivers  continued  to  be 
the  principal  highways.  Autumn  rains  and  win- 
ter winds  made  travel  an  affair  of  difficulty  and 
6 


CHILDHOOD 


danger,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  plantation 
were  shut  in  for  weeks  together  to  the  society 
of  a small  circle  of  whites  and  a retinue  of 
black  servants,  whose  quarters  were  often 
merrier  than  the  halls  of  the  mansion-house. 

The  only  relief  from  the  monotony  was  the 
coming  of  a visitor  from  the  outside  world ; 
and  when  the  packet  “ tied  up  ” to  the  wharf 
at  the  foot  of  the  tobacco-field,  or  the  soli- 
tary rider  lifted  the  latch  of  the  five-barred 
gate  with  the  handle  of  his  riding-whip,  there 
was  much  joyous  excitement  within  the  house- 
hold,— negro  servants  hastily  donned  their 
new  jackets,  turbans  and  fresh  aprons  were 
brought  out,  and  a smiling  train  waited  on  the 
steps  behind  the  hospitable  master  and  mistress 
to  do  honor  to  the  coming  guest.  The  wel- 
come extended  to  him  was  as  sincere  as  it  was 
hearty,  and  he  could  scarcely  make  too  long 
a stay  for  the  pleasure  of  his  host.  The  best 
the  house  contained  was  at  his  service,  and 
every  energy  was  exerted  for  his  entertainment. 
The  amusements  of  those  old  country-houses, 
as  a rule,  were  of  a very  primitive  and  simple 
nature,  but  they  had  one  great  advantage  which 
ours  often  lack,  they  did  amuse. 

I hold  in  my  hand  the  journal  of  a young  lady 
of  Virginia  who  jotted  down  her  daily  doings 
and  experiences  during  a series  of  visits  which 
7 


DOLLY  MADISON 


slie  paid  to  hospitable  homesteads  in  the  Old 
Dominion,  in  the  year  1784,  when  she,  like 
Dorothy  Payne,  was  some  sixteen  summers 
old.  It  is  full  of  mirth  and  running  over  with 
laughter  and  jollity,  — and  all  over  what  ? — A 
performance  on  the  “ Forte-pianer  ” ; a moon- 
light walk ; the  selecting  of  sweethearts  by 
thistle-blowing;  a dance  of  half  a dozen  couples; 
a ride  on  horseback  to  a neighboring  estate. 

“ I must  tell  you,”  she  writes  on  one  occa- 
sion, “ of  our  frolic  after  we  went  in  our 
room.  We  took  it  into  our  heads  to  want  to 
eat : well,  we  had  a large  dish  of  bacon  and 
beaf”  (you  see  the  Virginia  maid  of  olden 
time  was  not  strong  in  spelling),  “ after  that  a 
bowl  of  sago-cream,  and  after  that  an  apple- 
pye  in  bed.”  As  though  that  were  not  enough  ! 
But  no  : “ After  this  we  took  it  in  our  heads  to 
eat  oysters.  We  got  up,  put  on  our  rappers 
and  went  down  in  the  seller  to  get  them.  Do 
you  think  Mr.  Washington  did  not  follow  us 
and  scear  us  just  to  death ! We  went  up  tlio’ 
and  eat  our  oysters.  ” 

With  such  merry-making  country  life  might 
prove  gay  enough  for  the  most  frivolous  and 
worldly  minded  young  person ; but  it  was  a 
different  matter  at  the  plantation  of  John 
Payne,  who  held  the  tenets  of  the  Society  of 
Friends  in  their  strictest  sense,  and  discoun- 


CHILDHOOD 


tenanced  as  firmly  as  any  Puritan  all  worldly 
amusements.  Yet  despite  the  dearth  of  excite- 
ments his  daughter  Dolly  found  the  entertain- 
ments of  the  old  plantation  quite  satisfying  to 
her  simple  tastes,  and  in  after  life  she  loved 
to  dwell  on  these  early  days  and  declared  them 
full  of  happiness. 

The  training  of  the  house-servants,  the  care 
of  the  sick,  the  superintendence  of  the  cooking 
and  endless  needle-work  made  up  the  serious 
occupation  of  the  Colonial  dame  in  Virginia, 
and  Dolly  Payne  as  the  eldest  daughter  of  the 
family  was  early  instructed  in  all  these  gentle 
arts  of  housewifely.  Her  mental  training  was 
amply  provided  for  according  to  the  standards 
of  the  time  by  an  education  covering  the  ac- 
quirements of  reading,  writing,  and  an  uncer- 
tain quantity  of  arithmetic.  Writing  at  least 
was  thoroughly  taught,  for  her  autograph 
letters  show  a smooth,  flowing  hand,  almost 
too  clear  and  self-committing,  for,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  our  Dolly  might  well  have  imi- 
tated the  indistinct  chirography  of  the  youth 
who  said  he  did  not  dare  to  write  well,  lest 
folk  should  find  out  how  he  spelled.  To  the 
end  of  her  life  she  continued  to  violate  the 
canons  laid  down  by  Noah  Webster  and  Lindley 
Murray.  Uncle  she  spelled  with  a “ k ”.  Her 
weather  was  “ propicious.”  She  corresponded 


DOLLY  MADISON 


with  her  dressmaker  about  new  “ cloaths,”  and 
she  wrote  tenderly  of  a friend  who  was  suffer- 
ing “ with  a bile  on  her  arm.” 

Let  not  the  lip  of  the  nineteenth-century 
college-bred  woman  curl  in  scorn  over  these 
little  lapses,  which  must  be  set  down  to  the 
charge  of  the  age  rather  than  of  the  individ- 
ual. The  standard  of  female  education  when 
Dolly  Payne  was  a girl,  had  at  least  the  merit 
of  being  quite  comprehensible  and  compara- 
tively easy  of  attainment.  Two  questions  only 
were  to  be  answered : First,  what  would  make 
her  most  sought  as  a wife  ? Second,  what  would 
make  her  the  best  help-meet,  wife,  and  mother  ? 
From  beginning  to  end,  her  intellectual  devel- 
opment was  regarded  from  the  point  of  view 
of  its  pleasingness  or  usefulness  to  man. 

“ In  all  nations,”  writes  Noah  Webster  at 
this  epoch,  “ a good  education  is  that  which 
renders  the  ladies  correct  in  their  manners, 
respectable  in  their  families,  and  agreeable  in 
society.”  Some  knowledge  of  arithmetic,  as 
well  as  the  rudiments  of  geography,  he  consid- 
ers desirable.  “ Belles-lettres  learning  seems 
to  correspond  with  the  dispositions  of  most  fe- 
males,” he  says,  “ and  a taste  for  reading  and 
especially  writing  poetry  should  be  cultivated 
as  a vent  for  superfluous  emotion.”  He  urges 
that  accomplishments,  such  as  music  and 
10 


CHILDHOOD 


dancing,  be  strictly  subordinated,  and  adds 
convincingly  : “ My  fair  friends  will  pardon 
me  when  I declare  that  no  man  ever  marries 
a woman  for  her  performance  on  a harpsichord 
or  her  figure  in  a minuet.” 

As  to  education,  the  gentlemen  themselves 
had  none  too  much  to  boast  of,  especially 
among  these  descendants  of  the  Cavaliers, 
whose  schools  were  their  saddles.  John  Ran- 
dolph, who  was  a contemporary  of  Dolly  Madi- 
son, declared  in  after  life  that  the  first  map 
he  ever  saw  was  one  of  Virginia,  of  which 
he  obtained  a glimpse  when  he  was  nearly 
fifteen,  and  that  he  never  until  the  age  of  man- 
hood possessed  any  treatise  on  geography  other 
than  an  obsolete  gazetteer.  “ I never  was 
with  any  preceptor,  one  only  excepted,”  he 
said,  “ who  would  deserve  to  be  called  a Latin 
or  Greek  scholar,  and  I never  had  any  master 
of  modern  languages,  but  an  old  Frenchman 
(some  gentleman’s  valet,  I suppose)  who  could 
neither  write  nor  spell.” 

When  John  Randolph  and  Dolly  Payne  were 
children  the  thoughts  of  all  their  elders  were 
so  absorbed  in  pressing  questions  of  great 
moment  that  comparatively  little  time  or  at- 
tention was  bestowed  on  education.  Every 
young  girl  was  occupied  in  making  clothing 
for  soldiers,  and  every  lad  big  enough  to 
n 


DOLLY  MADISON 


carry  a musket  had  shut  up  his  school-books 
and  shouldered  his  gun.  So  it  was  in  Han- 
over County  over  which  Tarleton  rode  with  his 
raiders.  Whilst  little  Dorothy  was  learning  her 
book  and  strolling  through  green  fields  and 
sun-dappled  woodland  paths,  playing  with  her 
little  sisters  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  or 
mourning  in  secret  with  her  head  on  Mother 
Amy’s  breast  for  the  loss  of  her  bits  of  finery, 
great  matters  were  stirring  in  the  outside 
world  beyond  the  gates  of  the  plantation : 
John  Payne,  forgetful  of  his  Quaker  peace 
principles,  or  believing  them  overruled  by  the 
necessity  of  his  country,  had  buckled  on  his 
sword  and  ridden  away  to  become  a captain  in 
the  Continental  Army.  Patrick  Henry  was 
thundering  out  his  denunciation  of  British 
oppression  in  the  Continental  Congress ; and 
James  Madison,  destined  in  the  dim  future 
years  to  be  bound  by  such  close  ties  to  the 
little  Hanover  County  maid,  was  making  his 
entrance  into  public  life,  first,  as  a member 
of  the  Virginia  Committee  of  Safety,  and  later, 
as  a delegate  to  the  Virginia  Convention  where 
he  played  an  important  part  in  the  drafting  of 
the  famous  Bill  of  Rights. 

Children  as  young  as  Dolly  Payne  shared  the 
enthusiasm  and  anxieties  of  their  parents  in 
this  great  life-and-death  struggle.  Babies 
12 


CHILDHOOD 


played  by  the  door-step  at  drilling;  mimic 
train-bands  marched  and  counter-marched  on 
nursery  battle-fields,  and  when  a day  of  fasting 
and  prayer  was  set  apart  in  Virginia  solemnly 
to  invoke  the  aid  of  Almighty  God  in  the 
great  undertaking  of  the  war,  George  Mason 
wrote  home  to  a friend : “ Tell  my  dear  little 
family  that  I desire  my  three  eldest  sons  and 
my  two  eldest  daughters  may  attend  church  in 
mourning.” 

Thus,  little  children  all  over  the  broad  land, 
from  Massachusetts  to  Georgia,  were  thrilling 
with  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  the  public,  and 
thus,  when  the  Revolution  came  to  an  end  leav- 
ing the  States  united,  it  was  the  good  fortune  of 
Dorothy  Payne  to  belong  to  the  first  generation 
of  patriots,  — of  those  who  grew  up  with  the 
ideal  of  a country ; with  an  intense  loyalty,  not 
to  a province,  but  to  a nation.  “ British  oppres- 
sion,” exclaimed  her  kinsman,  Patrick  Henry, 
“ has  effaced  the  boundaries  of  the  several  Colo- 
nies ; the  distinctions  between  Virginians,  Penn- 
sylvanians, New  Yorkers,  and  New  Englanders, 
are  no  more.  I am  not  a Virginian,  but  an 
American” 


13 


IT 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 

It  is  easy  to  understand  why  John  Payne, 
having  become  a stanch  Friend,  began  to  find 
the  clime  of  his  native  Virginia  uncongenial  to 
his  spiritual  nature.  The  Virginia  planters,  as  a 
rule,  were  distinctly  non-religious,  if  not  irreli- 
gious. The  supremacy  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land in  the  southern  Colonies  had  fallen  with  the 
fall  of  England’s  political  power.  Church  build- 
ings lay  in  ruins ; baptismal  fonts  had  been 
transformed  into  watering  troughs  ; the  commu- 
nion chalice  was  used  to  hold  the  morning  dram  ;• 
rust  covered  the  bells  which  once  summoned 
congregations  to  praise  and  prayer,  and  the 
parsons  had  fled  away  over  seas  with  none  to 
bid  them  good-speed  or  to  waste  a lament  over 
their  departure.  Yet  this  downfall  of  the  Es- 
tablished Church  had  not  made  dissent  popular. 
The  feeling  was  still  prevalent  which  inspired 
the  remark  made  to  Madison:  “A  man  may  be 
a Christian  in  any  church,  but  a gentleman 
must  belong  to  the  Church  of  England.” 

H 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


From  the  beginning,  Quakers  especially  had 
been  looked  upon  with  an  intolerance,  strange 
in  view  of  the  peacefulness  of  the  doctrines  of 
the  sect.  In  early  Virginia  history  we  find  it 
set  down  as  a crime  against  a citizen  that  he 
had  shown  himself  “ very  loveing”  to  Quakers  ; 
and  again  we  read  of  a court  of  life  and  death 
consisting  of  the  Governor  of  the  Province  and 
any  three  of  the  sixteen  councillors,  “ whereat 
are  tried  Quakers  and  non-conformists.” 

All  this  actual  persecution  was  a thing  of  the 
past  long  before  John  Payne  came  to  the  reso- 
lution of  quitting  Virginia.  In  1717  the  King 
repealed  the  law  prohibiting  the  assemblage  of 
Quakers,  and  the  famous  Bill  of  Rights  which 
Madison  helped  to  frame,  distinctly  declared 
that  “ religion,  or  the  duty  we  owe  to  our  Crea- 
tor, and  the  manner  of  discharging  it,  can  be 
directed  only  by  reason  and  conviction  : not  by 
force  or  violence ; and,  therefore,  all  men  are 
equally  entitled  to  the  free  exercise  of  religion 
according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience.” 

There  is  a wide  gulf  between  toleration  and 
sympathy,  however,  and  it  was  quite  natural  that 
John  Payne  should  look  longingly  to  the  com- 
panionship of  his  spiritual  kindred  who  dwelt 
on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill  and  the  Delaware. 
He  desired,  moreover,  educational  advantages 
for  his  children  greater  than  the  plantation  life 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of  Virginia  could  afford,  and  therefore  after  a 
preliminary  visit,  which  he  and  his  wife  made  to 
Philadelphia,  in  the  spring  of  1779,  he  decided 
definitely  to  break  the  old  ties  and  take  up  his 
residence  in  the  North. 

His  first  preparation  for  the  important  change 
which  he  contemplated,  was  the  setting  free  of 
all  his  blacks,  whose  condition  of  slavery  had 
long  weighed  heavily  upon  his  conscience. 
Some  of  these  servants,  however,  refused  to 
accept  their  liberty,  and  prayed  their  master  to 
take  them  with  him  to  his  new  home  in  Phila- 
delphia. Among  these  was  Mother  Amy, 
who  was  at  last  accorded  the  privilege  of  con- 
tinuing in  the  service  of  the  family  with  the 
proviso  that  she  should  be  paid  for  her  labor. 
The  wages  thus  received  she  frugally  laid  away, 
and  at  her  death  bequeathed  the  sum  of  five 
hundred  dollars  to  her  mistress. 

Having  thus,  for  conscience  sake,  given  up 
that  large  share  of  his  property  which  lay  in 
slaves,  John  Payne  set  his  household  in  order 
for  the  journey,  which  to  him  was  more  like  a 
pilgrimage,  to  the  “ City  of  Brotherly  Love.” 
The  distance,  set  down  on  the  map  as  some  two 
hundred  miles,  conveys  little  notion  of  what 
that  journey  involved  of  difficulty,  discomfort, 
and  even  danger.  Travel  by  packet  sloop  was 
the  most  comfortable  mode  of  conveyance,  but 
16 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


slow  and  tedious.  Moreover,  these  packets  plied 
only  between  important  points,  and  passage  in 
them  was  not  to  be  had  without  much  prear- 
rangement and  tedious  delay. 

Yet  travel  by  land  was  still  more  difficult 
and  fatiguing.  Outside  Philadelphia  lay  black 
and  treacherous  quagmires,  in  which  the  horses 
floundered  and  struggled  for  hours,  making  no 
progress  towards  getting  out,  while  some  of  the 
hills  were  so  steep  that  wagons  must  pause  till 
other  teams  came  to  their  assistance.  These 
wagons  had  no  springs,  and  the  unlucky  pas- 
sengers were  jolted  from  side  to  side  as  the 
wheels  of  the  vehicle  rolled  over  rocks  or  sank 
to  the  hubs  in  mud.  Progress  was  so  slow  that 
days  and  even  weeks  were  consumed  in  journeys 
which  can  now  be  accomplished  in  a few  hours. 

John  Payne,  whether  he  had  travelled  by 
packet  down  the  James  from  Richmond  and  up 
the  weary  length  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  or  by 
coach  through  Alexandria  and  Baltimore,  must 
have  felt  that  all  the  hardships  of  his  pilgrim- 
age were  rewarded,  and  that  he  had  reached  his 
Mecca  when  the  roofs  and  steeples  of  Phila- 
delphia rose  before  his  view,  on  the  shores  of 
the  Schuylkill. 

An  entry  upon  which  I chanced  in  an  old 
diary,  kept  by  one  of  the  Paynes’  neighbors, 
enables  me  to  fix  exactly  the  time  of  this  mi- 
2 17 


DOLLY  MADISON 


gration;  for  under  date  of  July  ninth,  1783, 
Elizabeth  Drinker  notes  among  the  events  of 
the  day  : “John  Payne’s  Family  came  to  reside 
in  Philadelphia.” 

At  the  time  of  his  northward  migration,  at  the 
close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  Philadelphia 
was  the  metropolis  of  America,  a thriving  town, 
with  a population  of  thirty-two  thousand  inhabi- 
tants. Its  houses  numbered  over  four  thousand, 
most  of  which  sheltered  well-clad,  well-fed,  well- 
to-do  citizens,  “ free-livers  on  a small  scale, 
and  prodigal  within  the  compass  of  a guinea.” 
Small  as  the  city  was  in  comparison  with  its 
extent  and  magnitude  to-day,  it  was  even  then 
not  destitute  of  fine  buildings  and  historic  spots. 
Dolly  Payne’s  eyes,  unused  to  city  sights,  must 
have  opened  wide  at  her  first  glimpse  of  Christ 
Church,  with  its  quaint  steeple,  and  its  famous 
chimes  of  bells,  imported  out  of  England  at  a 
cost  of  nine  hundred  pounds ; at  sight  of  the 
old  Court-House ; of  Carpenters  Hall,  and  the 
State-House,  where  America’s  independence 
had  its  birth.  On  the  banks  of  the  Delaware, 
at  Shackamaxon,  near  the  Governor’s  house, 
the  Treaty-Elm  was  still  standing  to  call  up  be- 
fore the  girl’s  youthful  imagination  the  vision 
of  William  Penn,  with  his  blue  silk  sash  about 
his  waist,  surrounded  by  the  Indians,  “ arranged 
in  form  as  a half  moon.” 


18 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


Other  sights  upon  which  her  eyes  rested  were 
less  beautiful  and  less  elevating  in  their  associ- 
ations. At  the  west  end  of  the  Market,  on 
Third  Street,  stood  a platform,  raised  from  the 
ground  some  eight  or  ten  feet  for  the  benefit  of 
the  curious,  and  in  its  centre  rose  two  rude  in- 
struments of  punishment,  — the  whipping-post 
and  the  pillory.  Here,  on  Saturday,  which  was 
high  market-day,  between  ten  and  eleven  in  the 
morning,  the  miserable  victims  of  the  law  stood 
with  head  and  arms  ignominiously  pinioned,  or, 
still  worse,  with  clothes  stripped  to  the  waist 
and  backs  bleeding  from  the  strokes  of  the 
lash,  while  school-children  looked  on  with 
eager  curiosity  as  at  a spectacle. 

Dolly  Payne’s  heart  was  far  too  tender  to 
take  pleasure  in  any  such  scenes  of  suffering. 
More  to  her  taste  were  the  strolls  along  the 
river  side  or  over  the  western  Commons,  or, 
best  of  all,  on  the  shady  side  of  Chestnut  Street, 
when  the  belles  and  beaux  were  taking  their 
afternoon  promenade.  Here  the  young  fash- 
ionables congregated  in  great  numbers  and  al- 
ways attired  as  for  a dress  parade.  The  men 
were  arrayed  in  very  tight  small-clothes  and 
silk  stockings,  with  pointed  shoes  ornamented 
with  shining  buckles.  Their  waistcoats  were 
often  of  ^bright  colors,  and  the  outer  coats  with 
several  little  capes  were  adorned  with  silver 

19 


DOLLY  MADISON 


buttons,  from  whose  size  and  number  the 
owner’s  wealth  might  be  guessed.  Old  men 
carried  gold-headed  canes,  which,  being  a badge 
of  gentility,  were  always  very  much  in  evidence. 

The  women  were  attired  even  more  gor- 
geously than  the  cavaliers  who  bowed  and 
flourished  and  scraped  before  them.  Their 
gowns  of  brocade  were  of  a prodigious  fulness 
as  needs  must  be  when  the  hoop  spreads  out 
like  a balloon.  The  musk-melon  and  calash 
bonnets  were  of  correspondingly  wide  dimen- 
sions, and  altogether  a woman  prepared  for 
the  promenade  resembled  a ship  under  full 
sail. 

Doubt  not  that  Dolly  Payne’s  quick  eye 
took  in  every  clock  of  the  dames’  bright 
colored  stockings,  as  they  peeped  from  beneath 
the  petticoats,  and  counted  the  rands  in  their 
white  shoes,  and  watched  the  flashing  of  their 
ear-drops,  and  secretly  wished  that  some  of  the 
finery  and  the  gayety  might  fall  to  her  lot,  little 
dreaming  that  some  day  she  herself  would  be 
the  leader  of  the  fashion,  and  the  arbiter  of 
the  gay  world.  Now  it  all  seemed  very  far 
off  to  the  little  unknown  Quaker  maiden,  who 
had  been  taught  that  sober  apparel  was  part  of 
religion. 

Simplicity  of  dress  was  earnestly  and  con- 
stantly urged  upon  all  the  attendants  at  meet- 
20 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


ing,  but  human  nature  is  not  to  be  regulated 
by  creed  or  formula,  and,  in  spite  of  all  the 
prayers  and  exhortations  of  the  Friends,  their 
women-folk  continued  to  love  fine  apparel,  yes, 
and  to  buy  and  wear  it  too,  under  the  very 
shadow  of  the  broad  brims  which  shook  with 
disapprobation.  Men  as  well  as  women  some- 
times donned  gay  apparel,  but  they  were  much 
condemned,  and  the  limpness  of  their  principles 
won  them  the  appellation  of  “ Wet  Quakers.” 

The  dwellings  of  the  Friends,  like  their 
dress,  sometimes  lapsed  into  the  vanity  of 
adornment,  but  as  a rule  they  were  simple  and 
substantial  without  and  within.  They  stood 
in  rows  and  were  all  of  the  same  pattern. 
Each  had  its  little  porch  in  front  where  in 
warm  weather  the  family  was  wont  to  sit  of  an 
evening,  and  where  much  of  the  social  inter- 
course of  the  neighborhood  was  carried  on. 
The  maidens  dressed  in  their  best  seated  them- 
selves here  in  bright  afternoons,  and  the  young 
men  declared  it  quite  an  ordeal  to  pass  up  and 
down  the  street  under  fire  of  their  glances. 

The  interiors  of  the  houses  were  as  monot- 
onous as  the  exteriors.  The  lower  floor  had 
two  rooms.  The  front  one  was  the  shop  or 
office,  according  to  the  calling  of  the  owner. 
The  room  at  the  back  of  this,  with  white- 
washed walls  and  sanded  floor,  was  the  fam- 
21 


DOLLY  MADLSON 


ily  living  room,  and  the  placid  pleasures 
enjoyed  there  quite  justified  Montaigne’s  ob- 
servation, that  one  is  never  so  well  off  as  in 
the  back  shop.  Here  the  father,  mother,  and 
children  gathered  at  meals,  and  the  chance 
guest  who  dropped  in  to  take  “ pot  luck  ” with 
the  family,  was  welcomed  to  an  easy  chair  by 
the  open  fire,  or  the  Franklin  stove  lately  come 
into  use  ; but,  on  the  occurrence  of  that  awful 
solemnity,  known  as  a tea-party,  to  which  the 
neighbors  were  bidden  by  special  invitation, 
the  company  met  in  the  frigid  upper  room,  on 
the  second  story,  where  in  all  the  gorgeousness 
of  rustling  petticoats  and  fluttering  ribbons,  the 
feminine  guests  gathered  about  the  slender- 
legged tea-tables,  and  partook  daintily,  with 
extended  little  finger,  of  the  crisp  rusks  and 
the  fragrant  tea  sipped  from  egg-shell  china. 
Straight-backed  were  these  dames  as  the  chairs 
wherein  they  sat ; and,  indeed,  the  luxurious- 
ness of  seats  was  a matter  of  trifling  conse- 
quence, since  it  was  a point  of  decorum  never 
to  lean  back  or  seek  any  support  for  the  spine 
or  the  shoulders.  In  every  portrait  of  Mrs. 
Madison  and  her  contemporaries,  I note  a state- 
liness of  carriage,  unfamiliar  in  our  generation, 
and  due  doubtless  to  that  early  training. 

When  Dolly  Payne  was  young,  Philadelphia 
society  was  divided  into  three  different  classes  ; 

22 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


first,  the  old  English  families,  such  as  the 
Chews  and  Conynghams,  the  Hamiltons  and 
Willings  ; then  those  who  constituted  the  Rev- 
olutionary aristocracy,  including  the  Butlers, 
Boudinots,  Miffiins,  and  McKeans  (one  of  whom, 
the  lively  Sally,  became  an  intimate  friend  of 
Dolly  and  her  sisters),  and  last,  but  by  no 
means  least,  that  solid  Quaker  element,  led  by 
the  Morrises,  Logans,  Shippens,  Lloyds,  and 
Pembertons,  with  whom  the  family  of  John 
Payne  naturally  found  their  affiliations. 

Prominent  among  them  were  the  Drinkers, 
who  were  bound  to  the  Paynes  by  many  ties  of 
early  association,  for  Elizabeth  Drinker’s  father, 
like  the  father  of  Mary  Payne,  was  a native  of 
County  Wexford,  in  “ The  Old  Country,”  and 
“ Molly  Payne,”  when  preparing  for  the  move 
to  Philadelphia,  had  lodged  at  Mrs.  Drinker’s 
hospitable  house  on  the  corner  of  Front  Street 
and  Drinker’s  Alley.  The  Payne  children  were 
at  once  adopted  into  the  circle  of  the  Drinker 
young  people,  and  were  included  in  the  various 
driving  and  sailing  expeditions  which  made 
up  the  sum  of  gayeties  deemed  appropriate  for 
Quaker  boys  and  girls. 

On  July  tenth,  1784,  Elizabeth  Drinker  re- 
lates in  her  journal,  “ Sally  Drinker  and  Walter 
Payne,  Billey  Sansom  and  Polly  Wells,  Jacob 
Downing  and  Dolly  Payne,  went  to  our  Place 

23 


DOLLY  MADISON 


at  Frankford.  Sally  and  Josey  Sansom  and 
Nancy  Drinker  (from  ‘Par  La  Yille’)  met 
them  there  — a squabble  ! Nancy  returned 
home  in  ye  evening,  with  her  sister.” 

One  is  inclined  to  suspect  from  the  manner 
in  which  the  young  people  are  paired  off,  that 
the  cause  of  the  “ squabble  ” may  have  been  a 
bit  of  jealousy  on  Miss  Nancy’s  part,  of  the  at- 
tentions of  Jacob  Downing  to  Dolly  Payne.  If 
so,  her  feelings  were  pacified,  for  shortly  after, 
Sally  Drinker  with  John  and  Hannah  Thomas 
set  off  under  the  charge  of  Henry  Drinker, 
senior,  for  “ Rawway,”  in  a “ coachee,”  followed 
by  “ J.  Downing  and  Nancy  in  his  chaise.”  But 
woe  to  Nancy  if  her  hopes  were  raised  by  this, 
for  on  October  nineteenth  I read,  “Fourth 
Day  evening  — J.  Downing  spoke  to  H.  D. 
[Elizabeth’s  husband]  on  account  of  Sally  ! ” 

Some  of  the  gayest  and  most  delightful  hours 
of  Dolly  Payne’s  social  life  were  those  which 
she  passed  outside  the  town  of  Philadelphia, 
in  the  long  visits  paid  to  relatives  living  in  the 
neighboring  village  of  Haddonficld,  New  Jersey, 
situated  a few  miles  from  Camden,  and  reached 
by  a horse-ferry  from  Philadelphia.  The  house 
where  she  visited  is  still  standing  on  the  old 
“ King’s  Highway,”  and  is  rendered  notable  by 
having  been  the  meeting  place  of  the  State 
Legislature  and  afterward  of  the  Council  of 

24 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


Safety.  This  tavern,  for  such  it  was,  passed 
after  the  Revolution  into  the  hands  of  Hugh 
Creighton,  and  it  was  to  him  and  his  family 
that  Dolly  Payne  paid  her  visits,  which  often 
lasted  for  weeks  at  a time.  The  Haddonfield 
young  people  counted  her  a great  addition  to 
their  numbers,  and  no  one  of  them  entered  more 
heartily  into  the  enjoyment  of  summer  picnics 
and  winter  sleigh-rides  and  quilting  parties. 
During  these  visits  she  won  many  friends  and 
lovers  among  the  country  beaus,  who  in  their 
old  age  were  wont  to  tell  of  her  incomparable 
charms  to  the  younger  generation,  and  she  in 
turn  never  forgot  these  acquaintances  of  her 
youth  and  in  her  days  of  power  lent  a helping 
hand  to  many  a political  aspirant,  whose  chief 
claim  upon  her  kindness  lay  in  his  association 
with  Haddonfield  and  “ auld  lang  syne.” 

For  the  first  year  or  two  after  the  removal 
from  Virginia  to  Philadelphia,  all  went  well 
with  the  Paynes.  The  character  and  eloquence 
of  John  Payne  won  for  him  a high  standing, 
and  he  soon  became  a lay  preacher  or  “ Public 
Friend.”  On  First  Day,  he  exhorted  within 
the  walls  of  the  meeting-house.  There  was 
neither  pulpit  nor  choir  in  this  bare  and  simple 
house  of  worship,  but  in  front  of  the  benches 
ran  a long  platform,  and  on  this  when  the  spirit 
moved,  the  exhorter  stood,  first  having  removed 

25 


DOLLY  MADISON 


the  hat,  worn,  save  for  prayer  and  preaching, 
throughout  the  meeting.  Both  men  and  women 
were  accustomed  to  exhort ; men  occupying  the 
section  of  the  platform  facing  the  men’s  side, 
and  women  standing  before  those  of  their  own 
sex.  A sweet-faced  Quakeress,  being  asked  by 
a scoffer  how  she  explained  the  Pauline  texts 
forbidding  women  to  exhort  in  public,  replied, 
with  a gentle  smile : “ Oh,  well,  Friend,  thee 
knows  Paul  was  never  partial  to  women.” 

Very  eloquent  some  of  these  preachers,  both 
male  and  female,  were.  Dolly  Payne  used  to 
declare  in  later  life  that  the  best  sermons  to 
which  she  had  ever  listened  were  those  of 
Friend  Samuel  Wetherill,  who  was  equally  well 
known  in  meeting  and  in  market-place,  his  busi- 
ness reputation  being  spotless,  and  the  brand 
upon  his  goods  — an  old  Quaker  lady  sitting  by  a 
spinning-wheel — being  recognized  everywhere 
as  a standard  mark  recommending  all  jeans, 
fustians,  everlastings,  and  “ coatyngs,”  which 
bore  it.  On  First  Days,  when  the  Paynes 
and  Todds  went  to  hear  him,  he  preached  in 
the  Free  Quaker  Meeting-House,  which  is  still 
standing  at  the  southwest  corner  of  Fifth  and 
Mulberry  Street,  the  building  now  occupied  by 
the  Apprentices’  Free  Library. 

Among  the  few  dissipations  of  the  youthful 
Friends  was  attendance  at  the  Bank-Hill  even- 
26 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


ing  meeting,  coveted,  it  is  to  be  feared,  not  so 
much  for  the  benefits  of  its  pious  exhortations 
as  for  the  opportunity  it  offered  for  subsequent 
words  and  glances  between  the  youths  and 
maidens  ; but  the  elders,  more  strict  than  the 
Puritans  themselves,  discontinued  the  services 
“ because  of  the  lines  of  idle  young  men  who 
waited  about  the  doors  to  see  the  young  women 
pass  out.” 

But,  if  these  Friends  partook  of  the  Puritan 
sternness,  they  partook  also  of  their  sturdy  stuff 
and  their  devotion  to  principle,  regardless  of 
consequence.  A few  years  after  J ohn  Payne’s 
comiug  to  Pennsylvania,  he  was  called  to  share 
the  obloquy  incurred  by  the  sect  and  State  of 
his  adoption,  through  their  determined  and  out- 
spoken opposition  to  slavery.  The  hardest  part 
of  the  trial  to  this  loyal  son  of  Virginia  was 
that  the  abuse  came  from  his  beloved  South. 
The  trouble  grew  out  of  memorials  on  the  sub- 
ject of  slavery  addressed  to  Congress  by  the 
Friends’  Meeting  and  the  Pennsylvania  Soci- 
ety for  the  Promotion  of  the  Abolition  of 
Slavery.  One  of  these  memorials  sets  forth 
that  the  petitioners  “ earnestly  entreat  your 
attention  to  the  subject  of  Slavery  ; that  you 
will  be  pleased  to  countenance  the  restoration 
of  liberty  to  these  unhappy  men,  who  alone 
in  this  land  of  freedom  are  degraded  into  per- 

27 


DOLLY  MADISON 


petual  bondage,  . . . and  that  you  will  step  to 
the  very  verge  of  the  power  vested  in  you  for 
discouraging  every  species  of  traffic  in  the  per- 
sons of  our  fellow  men.” 

The  answer  to  this  memorial  — the  natural 
and  inevitable  answer,  in  the  heated  state  of 
the  public  mind  not  yet  quieted  from  the  fear  of 
the  rupture  of  the  Constitution  — was  an  attack 
upon  the  memorialists.  “ What  right  had  the 
Quakers,”  it  was  asked,  “ having  refused  to  risk 
their  lives  or  fortunes  in  the  conflict,  to  seek 
to  impress  their  views  upon  the  Government  ? ” 
The  Bible,  which  they  interpreted  so  liberally, 
was  metaphorically  hurled  at  their  heads,  and, 
finally,  it  was  declared  on  behalf  of  the  South 
that  the  confederation  was  a compromise  where- 
in each  took  the  other,  with  its  bad  habits  and 
respective  evils,  for  better  for  worse  ; the 
northern  States  adopting  the  South  with  its 
slaves,  and  the  South  accepting  the  North  with 
its  Quakers. 

Such  taunts  as  these  might  well  cut  John 
Payne’s  heart,  still  loyal  to  Virginia  as  it  was ; 
but  his  mind  was  already  beginning  to  be  bowed 
beneath  a weight  of  more  personal  trouble.  The 
setting  free  of  his  slaves  had  seriously  dimin- 
ished his  property,  and  the  increased  expenses 
of  town-life,  with  the  old  habits  of  plantation 
hospitality,  proved  a great  drain  upon  his  de- 
28 


.4  QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


pleted  purse.  Philadelphia  was  spoken  of  at 
this  time  as  a place  of  “ crucifying  expenses.” 
The  foreign  traveller  pronounced  the  necessaries 
of  life  there  far  dearer  than  in  Europe.  The 
rent  of  a modest  house  was  three  hundred  dol- 
lars a year ; the  wages  of  a servant  rose  from 
ten  to  twelve  dollars  a month,  — a great  sum  in 
those  days,  yet  not  sufficient  to  secure  good  ser- 
vice, as  we  may  infer  from  the  constant  com- 
plaints, which  fill  the  letters  of  the  mistresses. 
Elizabeth  Drinker,  for  instance,  records  one 
failure  after  another,  but  at  length  appears  to 
think  she  has  found  quite  a treasure,  despite  a 
trifling  drawback.  “ Polly  Nugent,”  she  says, 
“ was  this  afternoon  bound  to  us  by  her  mother. 
She  has  been  with  us  a week  and  appears  clever ; 
brought  ye  itch  with  her,  which  I hope  we  have 
nearly  cured.” 

With  costly  and  ineffective  service,  with  beef 
at  thirteen  pence  the  pound,  fowls  a dollar  a 
pair,  and  other  viands  in  proportion,  the  ex- 
penses of  J ohn  Payne’s  family  proved  far  heav- 
ier than  he  had  foreseen,  and  the  depreciation 
of  the  currency  at  the  same  time  contributed  to 
cut  down  his  income.  In  an  unlucky  hour  he 
determined  to  go  into  business,  taking  with  him 
his  son  John,  as  partner.  It  was  easy  to  fore- 
see the  result  of  such  a move  on  the  part  of  a 
middle-aged  planter,  without  business,  training. 

29 


DOLLY  MADISON 


He  failed,  and  his  failure  signed  his  death-war- 
rant. 

But  the  gloom  of  his  last  years  knew  at  least 
one  gleam  of  brightness,  and  that  was  in  the 
marriage  of  his  daughter  Dolly  to  John  Todd, 
junior,  a member,  like  himself,  of  the  Society  of 
Friends,  — a young  man  of  sterling  character 
and  not  destitute  of  this  world’s  goods.  Dolly, 
at  this  time  of  her  marriage,  if  we  rightly  reckon 
the  date  of  her  birth,  was  twenty-one,  and  her 
husband  five  years  older.  He  was  the  third  of 
his  name,  — his  grandfather,  John  Todd,  of  New 
London  Township,  Chester  County,  having  mar- 
ried Martha  Wilson,  and  their  son,  his  father, 
having  married  Mary  Durbarrow,  and  settled  in 
Philadelphia,  where  the  young  John  Todd  was 
born  on  the  seventeenth  of  November,  1763. 
He  was,  therefore,  twenty-six  when,  in  the  year 
1789,  he  courted  Dolly  Payne  ; and  twenty-seven 
when  they  were  married  in  1790. 

The  wooing  of  these  young  folks  has  faded 
into  the  shadowy  past  and  left  no  record  by 
which  we  can  trace  the  secrets  of  the  maid- 
en’s heart.  Did  she  love  him,  or  was  the  mar- 
riage made  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  her  father, 
who  saw  a providence  in  this  offer  coming  from 
a man  who  had  already  won  his  confidence  and 
respect  ? Tradition  says  that  Dolly’s  first  an- 
swer was  that  she  never  meant  to  marry,  but 

30 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


this  may  have  indicated  much  or  little  as  we 
translate  it.  It  seems  an  undoubted  fact  that 
marriage  in  the  early  times  was  more  an  affair 
of  business  than  with  our  generation.  In  those 
days  a man,  having  come  of  age  and  accumulated 
or  inherited  a sufficient  amount  of  property  for 
comfortable  living,  began  to  look  about  for  a 
wife.  Some  years  later  Mrs.  Madison  herself 
wrote  to  Governor  Coles,  anent  his  wish  to 
secure  a wife,  in  much  the  same  tone  she  would 
have  used  had  he  been  in  search  of  a house- 
keeper. She  fears  that  whilst  they  deliberate 
the  finest  girls  will  be  chosen  by  some  brisker 
suitor,  goes  on  to  enumerate  the  damsels  who 
are  already  selected,  and  ends  by  wishing  him 
a success  proportionate  to  his  merits  and  long 
search. 

Probably,  however,  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
Dolly  Payne’s  views  on  the  subject  of  matrimony 
were  of  a more  romantic  cast  than  in  those  later 
years  when  she  had  seen  more  of  the  world. 
Perhaps,  too,  she  already  had  begun  to  chafe  un- 
der Quaker  restrictions,  and  her  gay,  pleasure- 
loving  nature  hesitated  to  subdue  itself  for  life  to 
a drab-colored  existence.  Yet,  when  the  matter 
was  settled  and  the  marriage  definitely  arranged, 
she  seems  to  have  accepted  the  situation  cheer- 
fully enough.  At  the  close  of  the  year  1789, 
she  “ passed  the  first  meeting,”  a somewhat  for- 

31 


DOLLY  MADISON 


midable  ceremony,  in  which  the  Quaker  maiden 
announced  that  she  proposed  taking  John  Todd 
in  marriage,  and  hereby  offered  her  decision  for 
the  approbation  of  Friends.  After  this,  the 
bride-elect  was  obliged  to  pass  yet  another 
meeting,  declaring  that  her  intention  still  con- 
tinued the  same,  and  then,  no  objection  being 
offered,  the  arrangements  for  the  marriage  were 
concluded. 

The  wedding  was  solemnized  in  the  Friends’ 
Meeting-House,  on  Pine  Street,  on  the  seventh 
day  of  First  Month,  1790,  when  January  whit- 
ened the  earth  with  a bridal-veil  of  snow ; but 
Dolly  Payne  wore  no  veil  of  lace  or  tulle,  — 
like  Bayard  Taylor’s  Quaker  bride,  — 


Her  wedding  gown  was  ashen  silk, 
Too  simple  for  her  taste. 

She  wanted  lace  about  the  neck 
And  a ribbon  at  the  waist. 


It  is  hard  to  resist  a feeling  of  pity  for  this 
young  girl,  so  fond  of  everything  gay  and  bril- 
liant, compelled  to  forego  the  dancing  and 
wine-drinking,  the  stealing  of  slippers,  and  mis- 
chievous merry-making  which  marked  wedding 
festivities  among  the  world’s  people,  for  the  de- 
corum and  solemnity  of  the  Quaker  marriage 
in  the  bare-walled  meeting-house,  where,  with 
neither  priest  nor  chanting  choir,  this  man  and 

32 


A QUAKER  GIRLHOOD 


maid  stood  up  together  upon  the  “ women’s 
side,”  and  declared  before  God,  and  the  assem- 
bled Society,  their  intention  of  taking  each  other 
as  husband  and  wife. 

After  the  simple  Quaker  fashion,  the  groom 
repeated  the  formula  — “ I,  John  Todd,  do 
take  thee  Dorothea  Payne  to  be  my  wedded 
wife,  and  promise,  through  divine  assistance,  to 
be  unto  thee  a loving  husband,  until  separated 
by  death.”  The  bride  in  fainter  tones  echoed 
the  vow,  and  then  the  certificate  of  marriage 
was  read  and  the  register  signed  by  a num- 
ber of  witnesses  including  John,  James,  Mary, 
and  Alice  Todd,  relatives  of  the  bridegroom, 
John  and  Mary  Payne,  the  bride’s  father  and 
mother,  together  with  her  sisters  Lucy,  Anna, 
and  Mary  Payne,  and  sixty  others. 

It  was  the  custom  for  all  who  signed  the 
marriage  register  to  be  entertained  later  at 
dinner  and  afterward  at  supper  at  the  house  of 
the  bride’s  parents,  and  we  may  be  sure  that 
John  Payne  and  his  wife,  who  had  brought 
their  Virginia  notions  of  hospitality  with  them 
to  Philadelphia,  did  not  fail  to  set  forth  a 
bountiful  feast  in  honor  of  their  daughter’s 
wedding. 


3 


33 


Ill 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 

The  miniature  of  Dolly  Todd,  wife  of  Friend 
John  Todd,  junior,  painted  during  the  brief 
years  of  her  first  married  life,  and  now  in  the 
possession  of  a collateral  descendant,  shows  a 
youthful  Quakeress  in  the  bloom  of  early 
womanhood.  Her  neck  is  bare  in  front,  save 
for  the  soft  folds  of  a lace  kerchief  over  the 
shoulders.  The  lips  are  smiling,  and  the  eyes 
have  a wistful  shyness  more  bewitching  than 
all  the  full-blown  charms  of  the  later  portraits. 
Above  the  brow  falls  a little  fringe  of  hair  be- 
neath the  tulle  cap,  whose  band  forms  a sort 
of  halo  which,  as  a foreigner  declared  at  first 
sight  of  a Quaker  head-dress,  “has  power  to 
give  to  a Polly  the  air  of  a Virgin  Mary.” 
About  the  throat  is  wound  a four-stranded 
chain,  and  the  kerchief  is  held  by  a large  old- 
fashioned  brooch,  — ornaments  somewhat  at 
variance  with  the  Virgin  Mary  effect,  and  re- 
calling the  love  of  finery  which  beset  the  little 
maid  of  Hanover  Countv  a dozen  years  before. 

34 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


In  truth  Polly  Todd  was  not  greatly  changed 
in  any  way  from  her  childhood  days,  for  through 
life  she  carried  the  child’s  heart  open  to  every 
passing  impression,  and  to  the  last  preserved 
all  the  freshness  of  feeling  which  belongs  to 
early  youth.  The  two  years  following  her 
marriage  with  John  Todd  wrought  many 
changes  in  her  immediate  family  circle.  Her 
younger  sister  Lucy,  at  the  mature  age  of  fif- 
teen, became  the  wife  of  George  Steptoe  Wash- 
ington, nephew  of  the  President,  and  went 
back  to  Virginia  to  live  at  “ Harewood,”  the 
Washington  estate  in  Jefferson  County,  not 
very  far  from  Harper’s  Ferry.  A sad  and  sud- 
den change  came  to  the  Payne  family  too  in 
the  death  of  the  beloved  father,  which  befell  in 
1792.  It  was  a sorrowful  end  to  so  good  and 
true  a life,  for  he  died  bowed  down  by  a sense 
of  failure  and  disgrace.  His  small  property  he 
bequeathed  entirely  to  his  wife,  leaving  her  sole 
executrix. 

His  funeral  was  held,  after  the  fashion  of  his 
sect,  in  the  meeting-house ; thence,  after  the 
services,  the  corpse  was  borne  by  young  men 
to  the  burial-ground.  Arrived  there,  it  was,  ac- 
cording to  Quaker  custom,  set  down  that  the 
family  might  have  one  last  look  at  the  dead, 
and  that  “ the  Spectators  have  a sense  of  mor- 
tality by  the  occasion  thus  given  them  to  reflect 

35 


DOLLY  MADISON 


upon  their  own  latter  end.”  Neither  stately 
vault  nor  costly  monument  marked  the  rest- 
ing place  of  the  dead  Friends.  Crape  and  all 
outward  badges  of  sorrow  worn  by  survivors, 
were  discountenanced  as  heathenish  and  out 
of  harmony  with  the  teachings  of  Scripture.  — 
“ What  mourning,”  said  their  great  apostle,  “ is 
fit  for  a Christian  to  have  at  the  departure  of  a 
beloved  relation  or  friend,  should  be  worn  in 
the  mind  which  only  is  sensible  of  the  loss.” 

At  the  time  of  her  father’s  death,  Dolly  Todd 
and  her  husband  were  living  quietly,  but  in 
great  comfort  and  content,  at  number  fifty-one 
South  Fourth  Street,  not  far  from  the  famous 
hostelry  of  the  Indian  Queen.  John  Todd  is  fre- 
quently spoken  of  as  “ a wealthy  young  lawyer,” 
but  I have  failed  to  find  record  of  any  sources 
of  revenue  outside  of  his  profession,  and  unless 
those  days  differed  greatly  from  these,  a bar- 
rister of  sis  or  seven  and  twenty  was  not  likely 
to  have  accumulated  a fortune  from  his  fees. 

John  Todd,  senior,  was  a teacher,  and  ped- 
agogy, too,  is  a profession  not  ordinarily  pro- 
ductive of  great  wealth,  although,  among  the 
Friends  as  among  the  Puritans,  it  was  counted 
most  honorable  and  influential.  There  was  a 
certain  John  Todd,  whether  this  one  or  not  is 
not  absolutely  certain,  who  literally  as  well  as 
figuratively  left  his  mark  on  the  rising  genera- 

36 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


tion.  He  was  one  of  the  four  masters  in  charge 
of  the  Friends’  academy  for  boys  situated  in 
Fourth  Street  below  Chestnut. 

One  of  his  pupils  recalling  years  afterwards 
his  memories  of  this  “ blaster  of  Scholars  ” de- 
scribes vividly  the  discipline  he  meted  out  to 
the  unruly : — 

“After  an  hour  of  quiet  time,  everything  going 
smoothly  on  — hoys  at  their  tasks  — no  sound  but 
from  the  Master’s  voice  while  hearing  the  one 
standing  near  him  — a dead  calm  — when  suddenly 
a brisk  slap  on  the  ear  or  face,  for  something  or  for 
nothing,  gave  dreadful  note  that  an  irruption  of  the 
lava  was  now  about  to  take  place  — next  thing  to 
be  seen  was  strap  in  full  play  over  the  head  and 
shoulders  of  Philgarlic.  The  passion  of  the  Mas- 
ter growing  by  what  it  fed  on  and  wanting  elbow 
room,  the  chair  would  be  quickly  thrust  on  one 
side,  when  with  sudden  grip,  he  was  to  he  seen 
dragging  his  struggling  suppliant  to  the  flogging 
ground  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  Having  placed 
his  left  foot  upon  the  end  of  a bench,  he  then  with 
a patent  jerk,  peculiar  to  himself,  would  have  the 
boy  completely  horsed  across  his  knee,  with  his 
left  elbow  on  the  hack  of  his  neck  to  keep  him 
securely  on.  In  the  hurry  of  the  moment  he  would 
bring  his  long  pen  with  him,  gripped  between  his 
strong  teeth  (visible  the  while),  causing  the  both 
ends  to  descend  to  a parallel  with  his  chin  and 
adding  much  to  the  terror  of  the  scene.  His  face 
37 


DOLLY  MADISON 


would  assume  a deep  claret  color,  his  little  bob  of 
hair  would  disengage  itself  and  stand  out,  each  par- 
ticular hair,  as  it  were,  up  in  arms  and  eager  for 
the  fray. 

“Having  his  victim  thus  completely  at  com- 
mand and  all  useless  drapery  drawn  up  to  a 
bunch  above  the  waistband,  and  the  rotoundity 
and  the  nankeen  in  the  closest  affinity  possible 
for  them  to  be,  then  once  more  to  the  staring  crew 
would  be  exhibited  the  dexterity  of  master  and 
strap.  By  long  practice  he  had  arrived  at  such 
perfection  in  the  exercise  that,  moving  in  quick 
time,  the  fifteen  inches  of  bridle-rein  ( alias  strap) 
would  be  seen  after  every  cut  elevated  to  a perpen- 
dicular above  his  head;  whence  it  descended  like 
a flail  upon  the  stretched  nankeen,  leaving  on  the 
place  beneath  a fiery  red  streak  at  every  slash.” 

It  may  have  been  an  early  acquaintance  with 
these  severe  educational  methods,  which  led 
Dolly  Todd  to  determine  that  her  son  should 
be  brought  up  under  milder  sway,  and  to  adopt 
the  reactionary  course  of  indulgence  which  led 
to  his  ultimate  ruin.  The  boy  who  was  des- 
tined to  cause  his  mother  many  a heartache  in 
after  years  was  welcomed  with  the  greatest 
v rejoicings.  His  birthday  fell  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  of  February  in  the  leap-year  of  1792. 
A Quaker  baby,  he  knew  neither  christening 
robe  nor  god-father,  nor  sprinkling  of  conse- 

38 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


crated  water,  but  in  tbe  silence  of  the  birth- 
chamber  his  parents  gave  him,  in  honor  of  his 
mother’s  father,  the  name  of  John  Payne  Todd. 

A little  more  than  a year  after  the  birth  of 
this  son,  in  the  summer  of  1793,  another  child 
was  born  in  the  modest  home  in  South  Fourth 
Street.  This  baby  son,  named  William  Temple 
Todd,  lay  in  placid  unconsciousness  upon  its 
mother’s  breast,  when  a terrible  pestilence 
spread  its  dark  wings  over  the  city  without. 
The  first  death  which  attracted  public  attention 
in  Philadelphia  was  that  of  Peter  Aston  who  died 
on  the  nineteenth  of  August,  after  a strange  and 
sudden  illness.  The  next  day  several  other 
deaths  followed,  and  men  began  to  shake  their 
heads  and  whisper  the  dreadful  name  of  “ Yel- 
low-fever.” Day  by  day  the  disease  increased, 
and  panic  struck  the  heart  of  the  boldest.  In 
the  bank,  the  market,  or  the  church,  nothing 
was  talked  of  but  the  fever,  its  symptoms  and 
its  remedies. 

The  doctors  were  at  the  end  of  their  resour- 
ces. No  suggestion  was  too  absurd  to  be 
adopted  in  the  effort  to  stop  the  ravages  of  the 
fatal  disease.  Disinfectants  of  all  kinds,  tar, 
camphor,  and  “ thieves’  vinegar  ” were  used  in 
vain.  Still  the  pestilence  advanced  and  claimed 
victims  by  the  scores  and  hundreds.  The  whole 
city  fell  under  the  influence  of  the  panic.  Folk 

39 


DOLLY  MADISON 


who  at  first  had  crowded  together  to  talk  of 
their  neighbors’  illness,  now  passed  eacli  other 
hurriedly  and  almost  without  recognition,  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  street.  “ The  old  custom 
of  hand-shaking,”  says  a contemporary  and 
member  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 
“ fell  into  such  general  disuse  that  many  shrank 
back  with  affright  at  even  the  offer  of  the  hand. 
A person  wearing  crape  or  any  appearance  of 
mourning  was  shunned  like  a viper.”  The 
public  gloom  deepened.  Bells  tolled  inces- 
santly, and  funerals  blocked  the  streets,  till  at 
last,  by  city  ordinance,  the  burials  were  per- 
formed by  night.  The  heat  was  unbearable. 
Business  was  at  a standstill.  Rich  and  poor 
alike  had  but  one  thought,  — to  escape  with  the 
utmost  possible  speed  from  the  death-stricken 
town.  A week  after  the  outbreak  of  the  fever, 
the  removals  began,  and  for  weeks  carts,  wag- 
ons, “ coachees,”  and  chairs  were  occupied  in 
transporting  families  and  furniture  into  the 
country. 

Among  this  throng  of  motley  vehicles  was 
a litter  bearing  a young  mother,  the  wife  of 
John  Todd  and  her  new-born  child.  Their 
destination  was  Gray’s  Ferry,  a charming 
wooded  spot,  on  the  hanks  of  the  winding 
Schuylkill,  at  the  crossing  of  the  Baltimoi'e 
post-road ; near  enough  to  the  city  to  be  acces- 

40 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


sible,  even  for  an  invalid,  yet  out  of  immedi- 
ate danger  of  infection.  At  this  time  Gray’s 
Ferry  was  the  favorite  suburban  pleasure-re- 
sort of  Philadelphians  and  was  spoken  of  as 
“a  prodigy  of  nature  and  art,”  — nature  be- 
ing represented  by  a charming  succession  of 
dells  and  groves,  while  art  appeared  in  the 
grottos  and  hermitages,  Chinese  bridges  and 
flotilla  of  boats,  which  made  the  attractions 
of  Gray’s  Inn  and  gardens.  In  summer  the 
Philadelphians  sailed  down  the  river  to  sit 
under  these  trees  and  seek  the  coolness  of  the 
grottos,  and  in  winter  merry  parties  drove  in 
sledges  over  ice  and  snow,  sure  of  a warm 
welcome  and  a hot  supper  at  the  inn,  where 
they  might  afterward,  if  they  would,  dance 
half  the  night  away. 

Dolly  Todd’s  young  friends  knew  Gray’s 
Ferry  and  its  charms  well.  Elizabeth  Drinker 
sets  it  down  as  a reprehensible  thing  that 
“ Molly  Drinker,  Betsey  Emlen,  Sally  Large, 
Geo.  Benson,  Richd.  Smith,  Richd  Morris  and 
Jonaa  Hervey,  were  all  at  Gray’s  Ferry  this 
afternoon,  as  Molly  this  evening  informs  me ; 
which  I by  no  means  approve  of.  Friends’ 
children  going  in  companies  to  public  houses  is 
quite  out  of  character.” 

Friends’  children  however  went  and  con- 
tinued to  go,  fascinated  by  the  amusements 
■11 


DOLLY  MADISON 


and  the  gayety  and  the  fashion  which  in  these 
days  marked  the  resort.  Literature  as  well  as 
fashion  paid  its  tribute  to  this  spot,  and  a poem, 
inspiring  to  contemporaries  but  rather  ridicu- 
lous to  posterity,  apostrophized  it,  in  1787,  as 

“ A seat  removed  from  public  strife  and  care, 

For  which  the  Muse  iu  gratitude  has  brought 
To  Schuylkill’s  bank  the  Greek  and  Roman  thought ; 
There  to  her  Barlow  gave  the  sounding  string, 

And  first  taught  Smith  and  Humphreys  how  to  sing.” 

Gray’s  Ferry  may  claim  a somewhat  more 
substantial  title  to  fame  than  having  taught 
Smith  and  Humphreys  how  to  sing,  in  having 
been  the  scene  of  a grand  reception  given  by 
the  Pennsylvanians  to  Washington  as  he  passed 
northward  in  1789  to  take  the  oath  of  office  as 
President  at  New  York.  A queer  old  print 
shows  the  festive  scene ; the  floral  arch,  the 
flag  with  its  thirteen  stars  floating  beneath  a 
liberty-cap,  the  river  covered  with  row-boats, 
and  the  road  with  very  stiff  gentlemen  on  very 
restless  horses. 

All  this  gay  pageant  was  a thing  of  the  past 
when  Dolly  Todd’s  litter  crossed  the  bridge,  and 
she  in  her  weak  condition  had  little  strength  for 
any  impression,  save  of  relief  that  the  tedious 
journey  was  done,  and  that  at  last  the  terrible 
sights  and  sounds  of  the  stricken  city  were  left 
behind,  and  that  she  was  safe  among  the  trees 

42 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


and  the  birds  and  the  great  healthy  world  of 
nature  which  was  always  dear  to  her. 

Having  seen  his  wife  and  two  little  children 
transported  to  the  peace  and  comparative 
security  of  this  place,  John  Todd,  like  the  Hue 
man  he  was,  returned  to  the  plague-stricken 
town  to  face  its  risks  in  the  performance  of 
his  duty.  He  found  the  shadow  of  death  fall- 
ing on  his  own  household  and  arrived  only  in 
time  to  attend  the  dying  bed  of  his  father  and 
mother.  In  these  last  days  his  father  made 
a will  wherein  he  appointed  his  two  sons,  John 
and  James,  and  his  friend  u Samuel  Jones  of 
this  city,  House-Carpenter,”  as  his  executors  — • 
He  bequeathed  to  John  the  sum  of  five  hun- 
dred pounds,  and  to  his  little  grandsons,  John 
Payne  Todd  and  William  Temple  Todd,  fifty 
pounds  each.  The  residue  of  the  estate  was 
to  be  divided  equally  among  his  five  grand- 
children ; but  his  silver  watch  was  especially 
noted  to  be  given  to  his  son  John,  in  trust 
for  John  Payne  Todd,  or  in  case  of  his  death, 
for  William  Temple  Todd. 

The  sudden  death  of  his  father  and  mother 
might  well  have  tried  John  Todd’s  courage 
and  shaken  his  resolution ; but  he  did  not 
falter.  Friends  and  clients  were  calling  upon 
him  from  all  sides  for  assistance  and  he  stayed 
to  render  it.  To  his  wife’s  anxious  pretests  he 

43 


DOLLY  MADISON 


made  answer,  that  let  what  might  hefall  him 
these  duties  must  be  done,  and  after  that  he 
would  never  leave  her  again. 

He  did  indeed  return  to  Gray’s  Perry  and  to 
her,  but  only  to  die,  and  (still  harder  fate)  to 
bring  the  dreaded  disease  to  those  he  loved 
best.  He  died,  or  in  the  quaint  language  of  an 
old  Friend,  “ settled  in  the  land  of  fixedness,” 
on  the  twenty-fourth  of  October,  1793,  and  his 
young  wife,  who  had  recklessly  thrown  herself 
into  his  embrace  regardless  of  danger,  took  the 
infection  and  lay  at  the  point  of  death  for 
three  terrible  weeks.  When  she  recovered,  it  » 
was  to  find  herself  a widow  with  only  one 
child.  Her  baby  as  well  as  her  husband  had 
died,  and  thus  doubly  bereft,  she  struggled 
back  to  life  beneath  a heavy  cloud  of  sorrow 
and  depression. 

The  autumn  came  and  passed,  — the  frosts 
of  November  at  length  brought  a surcease  of 
the  epidemic.  The  pestilence  had  spent  its 
force.  The  death-list  shortened,  the  quar- 
antine relaxed  its  strictness ; the  same  chairs, 
wagons,  and  “ coachees  ” which  had  been  driven 
with  the  haste  born  of  fear  along  the  roads 
leading  out  from  Philadelphia,  pausing  neither 
for  hill  nor  mire,  now  came  slowly  back 
again.  The  streets  ceased  to  look  like  those 
of  a city  of  the  dead.  Doors  stood  open 

44 


FRIEND  JOHN  TODD 


and  lights  shone  behind  the  window  panes  at 
night. 

With  the  renewal  of  confidence,  men  began 
to  be  ashamed  of  their  panic,  and  sought  to 
atone  for  their  suspicion  and  selfishness  by 
increase  of  friendliness  and  cordiality.  With 
sobered  affections  they  strove  to  draw  nearer 
together  to  hide  the  tenable  gaps  which  over 
four  thousand  deaths  had  made  in  their  ranks  ; 
head-stones  were  raised  in  the  burying-grounds, 
which,  in  the  haste  of  the  midsummer  burials, 
was  described  as  looking  like  a ploughed  field. 
Soon  all  to  outward  eye  went  on  much  as 
before.  Men  bought  and  sold,  the  playhouse 
was  reopened,  and  the  accustomed  ways  of  life 
ran  on  like  a clock  that  has  but  been  stopped 
for  a day.  But  there  were  many  for  whom 
that  clock  would  never  strike  again,  and  the 
tragedy  of  whose  ending  is  all  compressed  into 
the  printed  names  included  in  such  death  lists 
as  that  wherewith  Matthew  Carey  closes  his 
“ Short  Account  of  the  Malignant  Fever,  lately 
prevalent  in  Philadelphia,”  in  which,  in  the  old 
fine  print  on  the  yellow  page,  I read, — 

“John  Todd,  sen. — teacher  and  wife. 

John  Todd,  jun. — attorney  at  law.” 

In  November  the  will  of  John  Todd,  junior, 
was  probated.  It  was  found  to  antedate  the 

45 


DOLLY  MADISON 


■will  of  liis  father  by  nearly  three  months,  being 
drawn  in  early  July  before  the  birth  of  his 
second  child.  It  consists  of  little  more  than 
the  following  simple  statement : — 

“I  give  and  devise  all  my  estate,  real  and  per- 
sonal to  the  Dear  Wife  of  my  Bosom,  and  first  and 
only  Woman  upon  whom  my  all  and  only  affections 
were  placed,  Dolly  Payne  Todd,  her  heirs  and 
assigns  forever,  trusting  that  as  she  has  proved  an 
amiable  and  affectionate  wife  to  her  John,  She 
may  prove  an  affectionate  mother  to  my  little 
Payne,  and  the  sweet  Bahe  with  which  she  is  now 
enceinte.  My  last  Prayer  is  may  she  educate  him 
in  the  ways  of  Honesty,  tho’  he  may  he  obliged  to 
beg  his  Bread,  remembering  that  will  be  better  to 
him  than  a name  and  riches.  Having  a great  opin- 
ion of  the  integrity  and  honourable  conduct  of 
Edward  Burd  and  Edward  Tilghman,  Esquires,  my 
dying  request  is  that  they  will  give  such  advice  and 
assistance  to  my  dear  Wife  as  they  shall  think  pru- 
dent with  respect  to  the  management  and  disposal 
of  my  very  small  Estate,  and  the  settlement  of  my 
unfinished  legal  business.  I appoint  my  dear  Wife 
executrix  of  this  my  will. 

“Witness  my  hand  and  seal  this  second  day  of 
July  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  one  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  ninety  three. 

“John  Todd  Junl” 


46 


IV 


“ THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON  ” 

The  widow  of  John  Todd  returned  to  Phila- 
delphia bowed  down  by  the  trouble  which  had 
fallen  so  suddenly  upon  her  young  life ; but  in 
the  fact  that  her  life  was  young  lay  the  secret 
of  its  swift  rebound.  Her  sunny  nature  could 
not,  if  it  would,  tarry  forever  in  the  shadow, 
and  her  radiant  youth  refused  to  walk  long  in 
weeds.  She  was  now  twenty-five  ; still  young 
in  all  her  feelings  and  with  the  added  inde- 
pendence of  the  matron.  It  was  in  her  wid- 
owhood that  Dolly  Todd  found  her  girlhood, 
and  within  a few  months  after  her  husband’s 
death  we  see  her  the  centre  of  her  little  social 
world,  and  so  universally  admired  that  her 
friend  jestingly  bids  her : “ Hide  thy  face  — 
there  are  so  many  staring  at  thee  ! ” 

In  estimating  Dolly  Todd’s  social  position 
and  financial  condition  at  this  time  we  pass 
again  into  the  cloud  of  obscurity  which  hangs 
about  all  her  early  life.  The  biographers  of 
Madison  speak  of  him  as  marrying  a wealthy 

47 


DOLLY  MADISON 


widow,  and  sketches  of  her  own  life  represent 
her  as  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  of  fortune  and 
fashion.  For  my  own  part  I find  more  inter- 
esting, as  well  as  more  credible,  the  witnesses 
who  picture  her  in  a humbler  sphere,  as  going 
back  with  her  little  boy  to  live  with  her  mother, 
and  like  the  faithful,  devoted  daughter  she  was, 
to  help  her  in  the  occupation  of  keeping  board- 
ers which  John  Payne’s  loss  of  property  had 
made  necessary  for  this  Virginia  lady  as  a 
means  of  support. 

The  seat  of  Government  was  now  established 
in  Philadelphia,  and  as  the  distance  of  the  re- 
moter parts  of  the  country  from  the  capital, 
combined  with  the  difficulty  of  travel,  kept  the 
families  of  many  public  men  at  home,  Repre- 
sentatives, Senators,  and  other  officials  were 
scattered  about  at  taverns,  more  pretentious 
hotels,  or  boarding-houses.  Very  uncomfortable 
residences,  for  the  most  part,  they  were.  John 
Adams,  then  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States,  writes  to  his  wife  from  one  of  these 
abiding  places  : “ What  do  you  say  ? Shall  1 
resign  my  office  when  I am  three-score,  or  will 
you  come  with  me  in  a stage-wagon,  and  lodge 
at  a tavern  in  Fourth  Street  ? I must  contrive 
something  new  against  next  winter.” 

Fisher  Ames  wrote  even  more  despairingly 
to  his  friend,  Jeremiah  Smith,  begging  him  to 

48 


“ THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON” 

secure  decent  lodgings  before  bis  arrival.  He 
intends,  be  says,  to  pass  two  days  in  New  York, 
“ and  three  more  will,  I trust,  set  me  down  in 
Philadelphia.  Do  not  let  me  go  down  to  the 
pit  of  the  Indian  Queen.  It  is  Hades  and 
Tartarus  and  Periphlegethon,  Cocytus  and 
Styx,  where  it  would  be  a pity  to  bring  all  the 
piety  and  learning  that  he  must  have  who 
knows  the  aforesaid  infernal  names.  Pray 
leave  word  at  the  aforesaid  Queen  or  any  other 
Queen’s  where  I may  unpack  my  weary  house- 
hold goods.” 

Far  more  fortunate  than  John  Adams  or 
Fisher  Ames,  or  any  wretched  denizen  of  ill- 
kept  taverns,  was  Colonel  Aaron  Burr,  for  he 
was  settled  in  the  home-like  lodgings  presided 
over  by  Mrs.  Payne,  assisted,  yes,  surely  assisted, 
by  her  beautiful  daughter,  Mrs.  Todd.  Colonel 
Burr  was  now  a Senator,  and  nearing  the  height 
of  power  from  which  he  was  destined  to  fall  so 
ignominiously.  His  personal  reputation  could 
hardly  have  been  what  it  afterward  became, 
else  Mr.  Madison  would  scarcely  have  chosen 
him  to  be  his  introducer  at  the  house  of  a lady 
who  had  so  impressed  his  fancy  as  he  watched 
her  at  a distance  that  he  ardently  desired  the 
honor  of  her  acquaintance.  In  his  old  age 
Aaron  Burr  used  to  boast  with  a chuckle  that 
it  was  he  who  made  the  match  between  James 


4 


49 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Madison  and  Dolly  Todd,  and  the  boast  was 
excusable,  since  few  of  bis  undertakings  turned 
out  so  well,  or  did  him  so  much  credit. 

“ Dear  Friend,”  wrote  Mistress  Todd,  all  in 
a flutter,  to  her  confidential  friend,  Mrs.  Lee, 
one  day  in  1794:  “ Thou  must  come  to  me, — 
Aaron  Burr  says  that  the  great  little  Madison 
lias  asked  to  be  brought  to  see  me  this  even- 
ing.” The  eventful  evening,  destined  to  be 
so  long  remembered,  arrived,  and  brought  “ the 
great  little  Madison.”  He  came,  he  saw,  — she 
conquered. 

Pretty  Mrs.  Todd  might  well  feel  flattered  by 
attentions  from  such  a source.  James  Madison 
was  a man  of  parts  (I  like  the  good  old  phrase), 
one  who  had  already  won  a more  than  national 
reputation.  Five  years  earlier,  the  French  tra- 
veller, Brissot  de  Warville,  had  written  of  him 
as  of  one  well  known  in  Europe.  “ Though 
young,”  said  de  Warville,  “ he  has  rendered  the 
greatest  services  to  Virginia,  to  the  American 
Confederation,  and  to  liberty  and  humanity  in 
general.”  After  a remarkably  good  guess  at 
Madison’s  age,  which  he  correctly  placed  at 
thirty-eight,  the  writer  continues:  “He  had, 
when  I saw  him,  an  air  of  fatigue.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  effect  of  the  immense  labors  to  which 
he  has  devoted  himself  for  some  time  past.” 
“ His  look,”  concludes  the  Frenchman,  with  his 

50 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


nation’s  love  of  a neatly  turned  compliment, 
and  a nicely  balanced  sentence,  “ bis  look  an- 
nounces a censor,  bis  conversation  discovers  a 
man  of  learning,  and  bis  reserve  is  that  of  a 
man  conscious  of  bis  talents  and  of  bis  duties.” 

Tbe  great  service  to  bis  country  and  to  man- 
kind, to  which  de  Warville  alludes,  was,  of 
course,  tbe  assistance  he  had  given  in  tbe  fram- 
ing of  tbe  Constitution  of  tbe  United  States. 
That  instrument,  which  a modern  English 
statesman  has  pronounced  the  greatest  work 
ever  struck  off  by  tbe  mind  of  man  in  the  same 
space  of  time,  was,  in  large  measure,  tbe  work 
of  Madison.  It  was  his  profound  familiarity 
with  English  Constitutional  law  which  contrib- 
uted to  form  it,  and  it  was  his  sound  logic  which 
defended  it  when  it  stood  in  grave  danger.  It 
fell  to  him  to  fight  for  it  in  the  halls  of  his  na- 
tive Virginia  against  such  opponents  as  Patrick 
Henry,  whose  opposition  began  with  the  begin- 
ning of  the  preamble,  and  whose  opening  speech 
sounded  the  note  of  war,  as  he  exclaimed,  “ Give 
me  leave  to  demand  what  right  had  they  to  say 
‘ We  the  people ,’  instead  of  ‘ We  the  States  ! ’ ” 
The  casting  vote  on  the  Constitution  lay  with 
Virginia,  and  Madison  won  it  for  the  Union,  and 
in  winning  it  woja  for  himself  an  undying  fame 
to  which  his  later  honors  could  add  little.  “ The 
Father  of  the  Constitution  ” was  the  proudest 

51 


DOLLY  MADISON 


title  his  country  could  bestow,  and  the  man  who 
in  collaboration  with  Jay  and  Hamilton  had 
produced  the  “ Federalist  ” had  no  honors  to 
seek. 

At  the  time  when  Mr.  Madison  asked  for  an 
introduction  to  Mrs.  Todd  he  was  forty-three 
years  of  age,  — seventeen  years  older  than  the 
charming  woman  to  whom  he  shortly  deter- 
mined, as  he  himself  would  have  said,  “to  pay 
his  addresses.”  He  could  not  be  said  to  have 
lost  his  youth,  for  he  had  never  had  any  youth 
to  lose.  The  oldest  of  many  children,  he  early 
assumed  the  responsibilities  of  manhood,  and 
from  his  childhood  was  a model  of  prudence, 
wisdom,  and  moderation.  At  Princeton,  where 
he  was  sent  to  college,  he  is  said  to  have  limited 
his  sleep  to  three  hours  a day  that  he  might 
give  the  additional  time  to  study,  and  when  he 
returned  to  his  home  he  settled  down  gravely 
to  the  task  of  instructing  the  younger  chil- 
dren, until  he  bestirred  himself  to  enter  public 
life. 

At  thirty-two  the  first  symptom  of  youth 
showed  itself.  He  fell  in  love.  The  object  of 
his  affection  was  Miss  Catherine  Floyd,  the 
daughter  of  General  William  Floyd,  who  lived 
on  Long  Island,  in  New  York.  General  Floyd 
was  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  was  a delegate  to  the  Con- 
52 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


tiuental  Congress  from  the  State  of  New  York 
from  1774  to  1783.  Mr.  Madison  formed  an 
acquaintance  with  General  Floyd,  which  led  to 
an  acquaintance  with  the  general’s  daughter. 
This  young  lady  he  found  so  attractive  that  he 
soon  made  her  a proposal  of  marriage,  and  she 
accepted  him  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was 
twice  her  age,  as  she  had  just  passed  her  six- 
teenth birthday. 

Whether  Mistress  Catherine  had  been  in- 
fluenced by  her  father  or  whether  she  had  mis- 
taken her  own  heart,  we  know  not,  but  we 
learn  that  she  soon  after  fell  desperately  in 
love  with  a young  clergyman  who  “ hung 
round  her  at  the  harpsichord,”  and  proved, 
perchance,  a warmer  wooer  than  the  measured, 
moderate  Madison.  Certain  it  is  that  the 
fickle  maid  transferred  her  affections.  Tradi- 
tion says  that  she  sent  her  discarded  lover  a 
letter  of  dismissal  which  she  sealed  with  a bit  of 
rye-dough.  This  may  have  contained  some  hid- 
den jest ; but  one  can  not  fancy  such  liberty 
taken  with  the  solemn  young  statesman,  and 
in  truth,  it  would  have  been  ill  jesting  with  a 
wounded  heart.  For  the  young  lady’s  sake,  let 
us  hope  it  was  the  only  seal  that  she  could  find, 
as  was  quite  possible  in  those  days. 

When  Jefferson  heard  the  news  of  his 
friend’s  disappointment,  he  wrote  him  sympa- 

53 


DOLLY  MADISON 


thetically  enough,  but  with  that  philosophy  so 
easily  summoned  to  meet  the  misfortunes  of 
others  : “ I sincerely  lament  the  misadventure 
which  has  happened  from  whatever  cause  it 
may  have  happened ; should  it  be  final,  how- 
ever, the  world  presents  the  same  and  many 
other  resources  of  happiness.  You  possess 
many  within  yourself ; firmness  of  mind  and 
unintermitting  occupation  will  not  long  leave 
you  in  pain.  No  event  has  been  more  contrary 
to  my  expectations,  and  these  were  founded 
on  what  I thought  a good  knowledge  of  the 
ground ; but  of  all  machines  oux-s  is  the  most 
complicated  and  inexplicable.”  The  philoso- 
pher of  Monticell o had  apparently  quite  for- 
gotten the  old  days  at  Williamsburg  when  he 
was  mad  for  love  of  Rebecca  Burwell,  and 
poured  forth  long  letters  full  of  wild  despair  to 
his  college  friend  and  confidant,  Jack  Page. 

This  misadventure  in  love  lay  ten  years 
behind  him  on  the  journey  of  life  when  Mr. 
Madison  called  on  Mrs.  Todd,  on  that  eventful 
evening  in  1794,  and  his  heart  was  free  and 
ready  to  be  taken  captive  by  the  beautiful 
young  widow  whose  gown  of  mulberry  satin, 
with  tulle  kerchief  folded  over  the  bosom,  set 
off  to  the  best  advantage  the  pearly  whites  and 
delicate  rose  tints  of  that  complexion  which 
constituted  the  chief  beauty  of  Dolly  Todd. 

54 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON.' 


The  two  men  who  bowed  before  her  in  the 
candle-lighted  parlor  of  her  mother’s  house  on 
that  night,  were  singularly  unlike  in  appear- 
ance as  in  character.  Both  were  small  of 
stature,  though  with  a dignity  of  manner 
which  atoned  for  lack  of  impressiveness  in 
outward  form  ; but  the  resemblance  went  no 
further.  Burr  was  full  of  grace,  of  charm,  of 
vivacity,  with  mobile  expressive  features,  and 
an  eye  potent  to  sway  men  against  their  will, 
and  women  to  their  undoing.  Madison  was 
slow,  unimpassioned,  and  unmagnetic,  yet  with 
a twinkle  in  his  mild  eye  which  bespoke  a dry 
humor.  Burr  was  the  younger  of  the  two  by 
five  years,  but  at  this  time  stood  on  a higher 
round  of  the  ladder  of  fame,  with,  apparently, 
the  better  chance  of  being  the  first  to  reach 
the  top.  Burr  was  a Senator,  while  Madison 
was  in  the  lower  house,  having  been  defeated 
in  the  contest  for  the  seat  of  Senator  from 
Virginia.  In  this  case,  as  in  so  many  others, 
however,  the  race  was  not  destined  to  be  to 
the  swift,  and  the  man  who  was  to  be  at  the 
head  of  the  nation  in  the  future  days  was  not 
the  brilliant,  versatile,  unscrupulous  Burr,  but 
the  slow  and  steadfast  Madison. 

It  is  to  be  set  down  to  Dolly  Madison’s 
credit  that  behind  the  unimpressive  exterior 
of  this  little  man  in  the  suit  of  black,  set  off 

55 


DOLLY  MADISON 


with  ruffled  shirt  and  silver  buckles,  she  was 
able  to  discover  the  real  greatness  and  solid 
worth,  so  that  when,  not  long  after  this  first 
meeting,  Mr.  Madison  declared  himself  openly 
as  a suitor  for  her  hand,  she  could  not  find  it 
in  her  heart  to  say  him  “ nay.” 

Just  how  soon  her  feelings  began  to  respond 
to  those  of  her  admirer,  history  does  not 
record.  Those  were  days  of  brief  widowhoods,, 
and  there  were  few  to  cavil  or  to  suggest  that  it 
followed  hard  upon,  when,  within  a few  months 
of  the  loss  of  her  first  husband,  the  rumor  of 
Dolly  Todd’s  second  courtship  began  to  creep 
abroad.  Madison  was  rallied  by  his  associ- 
ates upon  his  captivation,  and  the  report  of  his 
engagement  to  the  young  widow  was  soon 
whispered  about  Philadelphia,  and  ere  long 
reached  the  doors  of  the  President’s  mansion  ; 
whereupon  Martha  Washington  sent  for 
Dolly  Todd  and,  with  the  familiar  intimacy 
of  a family  connection  (Dolly’s  sister  having 
married  her  husband’s  nephew),  proceeded  to 
catechise  her  after  a somewhat  autocratic 
fashion.  Was  it  true,  she  asked,  that  Mrs. 
Todd  was  engaged  to  James  Madison  ? Blushes 
and  stammers  cried  her  mercy,  but  my  Lady 
Grand  Inquisitor  proceeded,  bidding  her  con- 
fess without  shame,  for  he  would  make  her  a 
good  husband,  and  she  might  be  happy  with 

56 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


the  approbation  of  the  President  and  her 
august  self. 

Evidently  Mrs.  Washington  did  not  share 
the  self-distrust  in  such  delicate  matters  which 
marked  the  conduct  of  Washington  himself, 
who,  when  asked  to  give  advice  in  a similar 
affair,  wrote,  with  his  customary  good  sense, 
and  more  than  his  customary  sense  of  humor  : 
“ For  my  own  part,  I never  did  nor  do  I 
believe  I ever  shall  give  advice  to  a woman 
who  is  setting  out  on  a matrimonial  voyage. 
First,  because  I never  could  advise  one  to 
marry  without  her  own  consent ; and,  secondly, 
because  I know  it  is  to  no  purpose  to  advise 
her  to  refrain  when  she  has  obtained  it.  A 
woman  very  rarely  asks  an  opinion,  or  requires 
advice  on  such  an  occasion,  till  her  resolution 
is  formed,  and  then  it  is  with  the  hope  and 
expectation  of  obtaining  a sanction,  not  that 
she  means  to  be  governed  by  your  disapproba- 
tion, that  she  applies.” 

In  Dolly  Todd’s  case  Washington  and  his 
wife  were  of  one  mind  in  approving  of  the  alli- 
ance in  question,  and  having  received  the  royal 
permission  to  be  happy,  Mrs.  Todd  allowed  her 
betrothal  to  James  Madison  to  be  formally  pro- 
claimed, and  arrangements  were  made  for  a 
speedy  marriage. 

In  the  early  part  of  September,  1794,  the 
57 


DOLLY  MADISON 


wedding  party,  consisting  of  Mr.  Madison  and 
Mrs.  Todd,  with  her  sister  Anna  Payne,  a well- 
grown  girl  of  twelve,  and  her  little  son,  scarcely 
more  than  a baby,  set  out  from  Philadelphia 
for  the  home  of  Mrs.  Todd’s  sister,  Mrs.  George 
Steptoe  Washington,  at  Ilarewood,  Virginia, 
where  the  wedding  was  to  take  place. 

A strange  contrast  this  gay  company,  in  coach 
and  on  horseback,  with  attendants  and  retain- 
ers all  in  holiday  humor,  must  have  offered  to 
that  other  sombre  procession  which  but  a year 
before  had  moved  slowly  out  from  this  same 
city,  to  the  sound  of  tolling  bells  and  booming 
guns,  amid  the  white-faced  and  terror-stricken 
crowds,  while  she  who  was  now  the  centre  of 
all  this  life  and  gayety  had  then  lain  pale 
and  weak  in  her  litter,  with  her  baby  on  her 
breast.  One  wonders  if  she  gave  it  a thought 
as  she  drove  along  in  her  coach.  If  she  did, 
she  gave  no  sign.  No  woman  ever  understood 
better  than  Dolly  Madison  the  art  of  adapting 
herself  to  the  shifting  scenes  in  the  play  of 
human  life;  and  therein  lay  one  considerable 
source  of  her  success. 

Let  us  admit  here,  at  the  outset  of  her  career, 
that  she  was  not  a great  woman,  — not  of  that 
stern  stuff  which  formed  some  of  the  heroines 
of  Revolutionary  and  Colonial  days ; that  she 
was  not  even  a woman  given  to  profound  or  in- 
58 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


dependent  thought,  or  to  sifting  opinions  or 
■weighing  arguments.  Why  should  she,  when 
some  stronger  mind  was  always  at  hand  to  form 
her  opinions  for  her  ? Her  nature  was  like  a 
lake  reflecting  brightly  whatever  image  was 
nearest,  and  when  one  by  one  all  earthly  images 
were  withdrawn  it  lay,  tranquil  to  the  last,  re- 
flecting Heaven. 

At  the  end  of  a week’s  journey,  over  roads 
winding  picturesquely  across  the  Susquehanna, 
through  Baltimore  town,  over  Maryland  hills, 
and,  at  length,  entering  Virginia  and  Jeffer- 
son County,  at  the  shore  of  the  Potomac,  Hare- 
wood  was  reached  ; and  there  took  place  the 
event,  of  which,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  Madi- 
son continued  to  speak  as  the  most  fortunate 
of  his  life.  Dolly  Payne  Todd  and  James  Madi- 
son were  married  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  Sep- 
tember, 1794.  The  ceremony  was  performed 
not  after  the  fashion  of  the  Friends,  but 
according  to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England, 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Balmaine,  of  Winchester,  Vir- 
ginia, a connection,  by  marriage,  of  Madison. 
The  wedding  was  followed  by  the  usual  festiv- 
ities, and  bridesmaids  and  groomsmen  danced 
and  made  merry  in  holiday  attire.  No  record 
has  come  down  to  us  of  the  costume  of  the 
bride  and  groom ; but  it  is  a matter  of  course 
that  Mistress  Todd  wore  some  such  silver  satin 

59 


DOLLY  MADISON 


as  that  gown  of  hers  reverently  preserved  to- 
day in  a certain  southern  household,  and  we 
know  that  Madison  wore  ruffles  of  Mechlin  lace, 
for  the  bridesmaids  cut  them  up  afterwards  for 
mementos. 

Another  bridegroom  of  the  period  who  had 
the  misfortune  to  lose  his  trunk  on  his  wedding 
journey,  has  left  an  inventory  of  its  contents, 
and  as  he  was  a great  beau  and  made  preten- 
sions to  the  highest  fashion,  we  may  conclude 
that  it  represented  a modish  wedding  outfit 
for  a gentleman  in  the  year  1794.  The  list 
includes : “ A light-colored  broadcloth  coat, 
with  pearl  buttons ; breeches  of  the  same 
cloth  ; ditto,  black  satin  ; vest,  swansdown  buff, 
striped  ; ditto,  moleskin,  chequer  figure  ; ditto, 
satin  figured ; ditto,  Marseilles  white ; ditto, 
Muslinet  figured ; undervest,  faced  with  red 
cassimere  ; two  ditto,  flannel ; one  pair  of  flannel 
drawers  ; one  ditto,  cotton  ditto  ; one  pair  black 
patent  silk  hose ; one  ditto  ; white  ditto ; one 
ditto  ; striped  ditto  ; ten  or  a dozen  white  silk 
hose ; three  pair  of  cotton  hose  ; four  pair  of 
gauze  ditto  ; a towel ; twelve  neck -kerchiefs  ; 
six  pocket  handkerchiefs,  one  of  them  a ban- 
danna ; a chintz  dressing-gown  ; a pair  of  silk 
gloves  ; ditto  old  kid  ditto.” 

In  the  midst  of  the  wedding  festivities  the 
newly  married  pair  started  in  their  coach  on 

GO 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


the  journey  of  a hundred  miles  or  more,  which 
lay  between  Harewood  and  the  Madison  estate  at 
Montpellier  (so  Madison  himself  always  wrote 
the  name,  insisting  that  the  dropping  of  the 
second  “ 1 ” was  “ a Yankee  notion  ”).  Few  re- 
gions in  the  world  are  more  beautiful  than  the 
one  through  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  drove 
in  the  blue  autumn  weather.  Up  the  smiling 
Shenandoah  Yalley  their  way  ran,  over  the  wall 
of  the  mountains  and  across  the  head  waters  of 
the  Rappahannock,  — up  hill  and  down  dale, 
past  many  a Colonial  homestead  perched  upon 
its  wooded  knoll  or  nestling  in  the  hollow 
of  the  hills,  till  at  last  their  road  ended  be- 
fore the  old-fashioned  gateway  of  Montpellier, 
where,  in  the  Blue  Ridge  country,  about  fifty 
miles  north-west  of  Richmond,  James  Madison, 
Senior,  had  erected  the  first  brick  house  ever 
built  in  Orange  County.  Then,  as  always,  the 
chief  charm  of  Montpellier  lay  outside  its  walls 
in  the  glorious  stretch  of  fertile  fields,  framed 
in  a setting  of  dark  forest,  and  the  great  wall  of 
mountains  rising  in  full  view  from  the  portico. 

In  this  delightful  retreat  James  Madison  and 
his  wife  settled  down  for  the  first  weeks  of 
their  married  life,  and  to  this  mountain  nook, 
“ within  a squirrel’s  jump  of  Heaven,”  their 
thoughts  turned  lovingly,  and  often  yearningly, 
in  the  busy  and  tumultuous  years  which  lay 
61 


DOLLY  MADISON 


before  them.  From  this  time  on,  Montpellier 
and  Montpellier  alone,  was  home  to  them,  and 
Dolly  Madison  by  her  tact  and  sweetness  thor- 
oughly disproved  the  saying  that  no  house  is 
large  enough  for  two  families ; for  as  long  as 
her  husband’s  father  and  mother  lived,  it  was 
their  home  as  well  as  their  son’s,  and  their  son’s 
wife  was  all  that  a daughter  could  be  to  them. 

As  soon  as  Madison’s  marriage  was  made 
known,  letters  of  congratulation  began  to  pour 
in  upon  him  and  his  bride.  Three  of  these  I 
quote.  The  first  is  from  Bishop  Madison,  who 
writes  to  his  nephew  : — 

Williamsburg,  Nov.  12th,  1794. 

My  dear  Sir,  — I cannot  refrain  sending  you 
my  sincere  congratulations,  upon  an  Event,  which 
promises  you  so  much  Happiness.  It  was  my  in- 
tention to  have  paid  you  a short  Visit  in  Septem- 
ber, upon  my  Return  from  the  Mountains,  hut 
heard,  when  in  your  Neighbourhood,  that  you  were 
from  Home,  & engaged  in  the  Pursuit  which  ter- 
minated so  agreeably  to  yourself,  & I trust  also, 
to  the  Amiable  Partner  whom  you  have  Selected. 
Present  her  too,  if  you  please,  with  my  Con- 
gratulations on  & ardent  wishes  for  your  mutual 
Happiness.  — 

With  the  most  Sincere  Esteem,  I am 
Dr  Sir  yr  Friend 

J.  Madison. 


62 


TEE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


An  equally  cordial  letter  followed  in  the  next 
month  from  General  Horatio  Gates,  the  hero  of 
Saratoga,  who  had  formerly  lived  in  Virginia, 
but  in  1T90  had  manumitted  his  slaves,  and 
moved  to  New  York : — 

New  Yore,  27th  December,  1794. 

My  dear  Sir,  — Permit  me  thus  late  to  present 
you,  & M?  Madison,  mine,  & my  Mary’s  Compli- 
ments of  Congratulation;  and  to  wish  ye  both 
every  Earthly  Felicity.  Make  us  also  happy  by 
saying  you  will  both  pay  a Visit  to  Pose  Hill  next 
Summer ; 

with  Mary’s  and  My  Most  respectful  Compliments 
to  M1?  Madison,  I am 

My  dear  Sir 

Your  faithfull 

Humble  Servant 

Horatio  Gates. 

It  was  not  until  spring  that  Madison  received 
congratulations  from  his  old  friend  and  college 
mate  Freneau,  but  when  his  letter  arrived  it 
was  no  less  hearty  than  the  others  in  its  good 
wishes : — 

Monmouth,  May  20m, — 1795. — 

My  respected  friend,  — 

The  Public  Papers  some  time  ago  Announced 
your  Marriage.  I wish  you  all  possible  happiness 
63 


DOLLY  MADISON 


with  the  lady  whom  you  have  chosen  for  your  com- 
panion through  life  — Mr.s  Freneau  joins  me  in  the 
same,  and  desires  me  to  present  her  best  respects  to 
your  lady  and  yourself  — and  should  you  ever  take 
an  excursion  to  these  parts  of  Jersey,  we  will  en- 
deavour to  give  Mr?  Madison  and  yourself — “if 
not  a costly  welcome,  yet  a kind.”  — 

I am,  Sir, 

with  great  Esteem 
Your  friend  and  humble  Send 

Philip  Freneau. 

Shortly  after  his  marriage,  Madison  began 
building  and  rebuilding  at  Montpellier  by  the 
adding  of  new  outbuildings  and  setting  in  order 
of  old,  which  he  continued,  with  the  aid  of  an 
architect  named  Chisholm,  through  a series  of 
years.  He  writes  to  Monroe  that  he  is  sending 
off  a wagon  to  fetch  nails  for  his  carpenters, 
and  as  his  building  is  nearly  completed  he 
asks  if  Monroe  will  allow  him  to  secure  a few 
articles  which  he  had  offered  from  the  stock 
brought  from  France. 

The  articles  ordered  by  Madison  consist  of 
“ two  table-cloths  for  a dining  room,  of  about 
eighteen  feet ; two,  three  or  four,  as  may  be 
convenient,  for  a more  limited  scale  ; four  dozen 
napkins,  which  will  not  in  the  least  be  objec- 
tionable for  having  been  used,  and  two  mat- 
tresses.” A biographer  of  Madison  makes 

64 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


himself  very  merry  over  this  slender  list,  and 
comments  with  playful  irony  : “ It  was  not  an 
extravagant  outfit  even  though  it  had  not  been 
meant  for  one  of  those  lordly  Virginia  houses 
of  which  some  modern  historians  give  us  such 
charming  pictures ; ” but  surely  this  writer 
would  not  have  us  believe  that  these  articles 
were  the  entire  dependence  of  the  Madison 
household,  even  with  the  addition  of  the 
kitchen  furnishings  for  which  Madison  asks 
further,  adding  with  due  humility : “ We  are 
so  unacquainted  with  the  culinary  utensils  in 
detail  that  it  is  difficult  to  refer  to  such  by 
name  or  description  as  would  be  within  our 
wants.” 

Certain  it  is,  that  the  house  at  Montpellier 
was  amply  provided  as  time  went  on  both  with 
necessaries  and  luxuries,  and  many  a happy 
hour  James  and  Dolly  Madison  spent  in  enlar- 
ging and  adorning  it ; but  pleasant  and  rest- 
ful as  the  life  at  Montpellier  might  prove,  it 
could  at  present  be  only  an  interlude.  In  a 
little  more  than  a month  the  newly  married 
pair  were  back  in  Philadelphia,  whence  Madi- 
son sends  a letter  to  Jefferson  on  November 
sixth.  James  Madison  was  too  important  a 
man  to  be  long  spared  from  the  national  coun- 
cils, and  a letter  of  John  Adams’  written  at  the 
capital  about  the  end  of  November  reports  him 

5 65 


DOLLY  MADISON 


as  acting  on  one  of  the  committees  of  the  House 
of  Representatives,  of  which  he  was  a promi- 
nent member. 

Mrs.  Madison,  on  her  return  to  Philadel- 
phia, found  the  social  season  already  begun,  and 
plunged  at  once  into  the  tide  of  entertainments. 
Her  enjoyment  of  all  the  scenes  of  gayety 
was  heightened,  as  she  confessed,  by  its  con- 
trast with  the  repression  of  her  youth,  and  she 
brought  to  social  life  a freshness  of  delight 
which  greatly  enhanced  the  charm  of  her 
personality  and  made  her  everywhere  welcome, 
— especially  as  an  enlivening  factor  in  the 
levees  held  by  President  and  Mrs.  Washington, 
at  the  sober  old  house  on  Market  Street,  with 
its  mottled  brick  walls  and  its  two  lamps  glim- 
mering owl-like  before  the  door  to  light  the 
way  of  strangers.  It  was,  perhaps,  the  mem- 
ory of  the  somewhat  dreary  formality  of  these 
official  functions  at  the  President’s  mansion, 
which  led  Dolly  Madison  to  make  her  own 
receptions  at  the  White  House,  in  after  years, 
so  charmingly  informal  and  easy.  It  speaks 
volumes  for  her  tact  and  amiability  that,  little 
as  she  had  mingled  in  the  world,  she  was  able  to 
glide  into  this  provincial  court,  with  its  rigid 
code  of  etiquette  and  its  thousand  little  personal 
piques  and  grudges,  without  offending  against 
any  social  canons  or  incurring  any  enmities. 

66 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


Philadelphia  society  between  1794  and  1797 
was  brilliant  in  every  sense.  The  streets  were 
gay  with  equipages,  of  which  the  most  impos- 
ing was  the  President’s  white  coach  with  scarlet 
panels,  drawn  by  white  horses,  and  attended 
by  outriders  wearing  the  scarlet  and  white 
livery  of  the  Washington  family.  The  houses 
were  gay  with  dinners,  routs,  and  balls,  but 
best  of  all,  the  hosts  and  guests  were  bril- 
liant in  themselves.  The  French  Revolution 
had  driven  many  titled  foreigners  of  distinction 
over-seas,  and  all  who  came  to  the  United 
States  of  course  found  their  way  to  the  capital, 
if  only  to  see  the  great  Washington  who  was 
almost  as  much  of  a hero  in  France  as  in  his 
native  land.  In  the  spring  of  1794  M.  de  Tal- 
leyrand, Bishop  of  Autun  (Heaven  save  the 
mark  !)  came  over  and  settled  for  a time  in 
Philadelphia  at  Oeller’s  Tavern  on  Chestnut 
Street.  Shortly  after  the  Madisons’  return 
the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld-Liancourt  also 
arrived,  and  began  at  once  taking  notes  for 
his  voluminous  book  on  American  peculiari- 
ties. Later  Louis  Philippe,  followed  by  his 
brothers,  the  Due  de  Montpensier  and  the 
Comte  de  Beaujolias,  appeared  in  Philadel- 
phia, where  the  Bourbon  prince  lodged  humbly 
enough  in  a tiny  room  over  a barber’s  shop. 
When  he  extended  royal  hospitality  in  this 
67 


DOLLY  MADISON 


apartment,  he  was  compelled  to  seat  half  his 
guests  on  the  bed,  but  with  the  happy  grace  of 
his  nation,  he  remarked  that  he  had  himself 
occupied  less  comfortable  places  without  the 
consolation  of  agreeable  company.  The  royal 
exile,  it  is  said,  offered  himself  to  one  of  the 
daughters  of  Mr.  Bingham,  but  the  parent, 
wiser  than  the  father  of  Elizabeth  Paterson, 
declined  the  doubtful  honor,  replying  shrewdly  : 
“ Should  you  ever  be  restored  to  your  heredi- 
tary position  you  will  be  too  great  a match  for 
my  daughter.  Otherwise  she  is  too  great  a 
match  for  you.” 

Among  the  foreign  visitors  to  Philadelphia 
during  these  closing  years  of  the  century  was 
a young  Spanish  Ambassador,  described  as  “ a 
short  full  man,”  and  bearing  the  sounding  title 
of  Don  Carlos  Martinez,  Marquis  D’Yrujo, 
who  presented  his  credentials,  and  soon  after 
married  Dolly  Madison’s  intimate  friend  Sally 
McKean,  that  merry,  mischievous,  altogether 
charming  young  woman,  who  looks  out  at  us 
from  Stuart’s  portrait  with  lips  that  can  scarcely 
refrain  from  smiling  long  enough  to  be  painted, 
with  neck  and  arms  of  snowy  whiteness,  and  a 
general  air  of  innocent  and  high-bred  coquetry. 

Of  all  the  social  events  of  the  fashionable 
world  at  this  time  none  were  of  such  high  im- 
portance as  the  Assemblies,  held  at  Oeller’s 
68 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


tavern  in  a fine  ball-room  sixty  feet  square, 
with  a musicians’  gallery  at  one  end,  and 
walls  “ papered  after  the  French  taste  with 
Pantheon  figures  on  the  panels.”  The  rules 
governing  these  gatherings  were  very  strict, 
and  intended  to  secure  behavior  corresponding 
to  the  dignity  of  the  names  on  the  list  of 
managers. 

These  regulations  were  framed  and  hung  on 
the  wall  that  all  might  read.  They  provided 
that,  — 

1.  The  Managers  have  the  entire  direction. 

2.  The  Ladies  rank  in  sets  and  draw  for  places 
as  they  enter  the  room.  The  Managers  have  power 
to  place  strangers  and  brides  at  the  head  of  the 
Dances. 

3.  The  Ladies  who  lead  call  the  Dances  alter- 
nately. 

4.  USTo  Lady  to  dance  out  of  her  set,  without 
leave  of  a Manager. 

5.  TSTo  Lady  to  quit  her  place  in  the  Dance,  or 
alter  the  figure. 

6.  jSTo  person  to  interrupt  the  view  of  the 
Dance. 

7.  The  rooms  to  be  opened  at  six  o’clock  every 
Thursday  evening  during  the  season.  The  Dances 
to  commence  at  seven  and  end  at  twelve  precisely. 

8.  Each  set  having  danced  a Country-Dance,  a 
Cotillion  may  be  called  if  at  the  desire  of  eight 
Ladies. 


69 


DOLLY  MADISON 


9.  No  Stranger  admitible  without  a Ticket 
signed  by  one  of  the  Managers,  previously  ob- 
tained. 

10.  No  Gentleman  admitible  in  boots,  colored 
stockings,  or  undress. 

The  preparation  of  toilets  for  these  Assem- 
blies was  an  affair  of  serious  importance.  I find 
in  a Philadelphia  journal  at  the  commencement 
of  the  season,  under  date  of  November  twenty- 
seventh,  1794,  an  advertisement  that  “ Lacave 
has  the  honor  of  informing  the  ladies  of  Phil- 
adelphia that  he  cuts  and  dresses  hair  in  the 
most  approved  and  late  fashion.  He  also  orna- 
ments the  head-dress  according  to  the  wish  of 
his  employers,  with  the  handkerchief.,  ribbon, 
feather,  flowers,  gauze,  perle,  etc.  All  in  the 
newest  taste.  He  lives  at  number  fourteen 
Cherry  Alley,  between  Third  and  Fourth 
Streets.” 

All  this  dressing  and  dancing,  this  flirting 
and  feasting  amused  and  entertained  Mrs. 
Madison  far  more  than  it  did  her  husband,  — 
a difference  easily  accounted  for  by  the  mere 
fact  that  she  was  under  thirty  while  he  was 
over  forty.  But  the  difference  went  deeper  than 
this,  for  while  the  wife  lived  very  much  upon 
the  surface  of  things  and  found  her  happiness 
in  the  occurrences  of  the  moment,  the  husband 
saw  beneath  all  this  pleasant  exterior  and 

70 


“ TEE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


was  growing  daily  more  disgusted  with  the 
envy,  hatred,  and  malice  which  underlay  it. 
He  felt  in  his  soul  the  degradation  of  the 
political  broils  which  embittered  the  last  years 
of  Washington’s  administration.  He  began  to 
talk  seriously  of  giving  up  public  life  altogether, 
and  returning  to  the  simple  delights  of  the 
country  which  had  proved  so  entrancing  in 
the  early  days  of  his  married  life  at  Mont- 
pellier. In  this  strain  he  wrote  to  his  most 
intimate  friend,  counsellor,  and  confidant, 
Thomas  Jefferson,  who  made  answer:  “Hold 
on,  my  dear  friend,  that  we  may  not  ship- 
wreck ! I do  not  see  in  the  minds  of  those 
with  whom  I converse  a greater  affliction  than 
the  fear  of  your  retirement ; but  this  must  not 
be  unless  to  a more  splendid,  a more  efficient 
post.  There  I should  rejoice  to  see  you.  I 
may  say ; I shall  rejoice  to  see  you.” 

Jefferson  casts  about  in  this  letter  for  every 
argument  and  persuasion  likely  to  influence  his 
friend,  and,  at  length,  sharing  evidently  in  the 
opinion  of  Abigail  Adams,  that  no  man  ever 
prospered  without  the  consent  and  co-operation 
of  his  wife,  he  adds  at  the  end,  “ Present  me 
respectfully  to  Mrs.  Madison,  and  pray  her  to 
keep  you  where  you  are,  for  her  own  satisfaction 
and  for  the  public  good.” 

Already  the  influence  of  the  young  wife 

71 


DOLLY  MADLSON 


was  a factor  to  be  reckoned  with,  and  the 
appeal  to  her  powers  of  persuasion  was  by  no 
means  an  idle  compliment  on  Jefferson’s  part. 
From  the  time  of  her  marriage  her  husband’s 
career  was  her  first  care,  and  she  devoted 
herself  with  the  most  unselfish  affection  to 
furthering  his  every  interest.  Her  political 
creed  was  an  adaptation  of  Decatur’s  motto  : 
“ My  husband,  — may  he  ever  be  right ! but 
my  husband,  right  or  wrong.” 

Some  influence,  whether  his  wife’s  or  not, 
we  can  only  infer,  did  persuade  Madison  to 
hold  his  seat  in  Congress  until  the  end  of  the 
Washington  administration,  and  Mrs.  Madison 
continued  to  make  warm  friends  and  admirers 
even  among  the  political  opponents  of  her 
husband.  That  stanch  old  Federalist,  John 
Adams,  looked  upon  Madison  as  a political 
apostate  who  had  abandoned  the  truth  accord- 
ing to  Alexander  Hamilton  to  follow  the  false 
Republican  gods  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  but  he 
wrote  to  his  wife  from  Philadelphia  : — 

“My  dearest  Friend. — I dined  yesterday 
with  Mr.  Madison.  Mrs.  Madison  is  a fine  woman, 
and  her  two  sisters  are  equally  so.  One  of  them  is 
married  to  George  Washington,  one  of  the  neph- 
ews of  the  President,  who  are  sometimes  at  our 
house.  Mr.  Washington  came  and  civilly  inquired 
after  your  health.  These  ladies,  whose  name  is 
72 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


Payne,  are  of  a Quaker  family,  one  of  North 
Carolina.  ” 

Thus  it  appears  that  Dolly  Madison  charmed 
John  Adams,  as  she  charmed  every  one  else 
■with  whom  she  came  in  contact  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  her  life.  How  did  she  do  it  ? 
Assuredly  not  by  conscious  effort,  or  with  pre- 
pense intention.  It  was  what  she  was,  rather 
than  what  she  did  or  said  which  attracted  all 
who  came  within  the  circle  of  her  personal 
magnetism.  Perhaps  the  best  explanation  of 
her  attraction  is  offered  by  the  remark  of  one 
of  her  nieces,  who  said  lately,  “ I always 
thought  better  of  myself  when  I had  been  with 
Aunt  Dolly.” 

Despite  the  happiness  of  her  married  life, 
the  year  1795  opened  sadly  for  Mrs.  Madison, 
whose  warm  heart  vibrated  to  every  chord  of 
family  joys  and  family  sorrows.  Under  date 
of  January  5th  in  this  year  Elizabeth  Drinker 
records  in  her  journal : “ I heard  this  evening 
of  the  death  of  two  of  Molly  Payne’s  sons, 
Temple  and  Isaac ; the  latter  offended  a man 
in  Virginia,  who  some  time  after  shot  him  with 
a pistol.” 

In  January  of  the  year  1796  the  will  of  John 
Payne,  Mrs.  Madison’s  father,  was  brought  up 
for  probate,  and  letters  testamentary  were 
granted  to  the  widow,  Mary  Payne,  as  sole 
73 


DOLLY  MADISON 


executrix.  George  Walker  and  John  Todd, 
who  had  witnessed  the  will,  were  now  both 
dead.  Dolly  Madison  therefore  was  the  only  sur- 
viving witness.  She  and  her  two  sisters  came 
into  court  to  testify  to  the  signature.  “ This 
day,”  says  the  old  record,  “ appeared  Dolley  P. 
Maddison  [sic],  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  Gentle- 
woman, late  Dolley  P.  Todd,  who,  being  one  of 
the  People  called  Quakers  and  conscientiously 
scrupulous  of  taking  an  oath,  Doth  solemnly 
declare  and  affirm  that  she  was  present  and 
saw  her  late  father  John  Payne  . . . sign,  seal, 
publish,  and  declare  the  same  as  and  for  his 
Testament  and  last  Will.” 

The  estate  left  to  Mrs.  Payne  consisted  chiefly 
of  lands  in  Western  Virginia  and  Kentucky. 
In  the  Madison  Papers  are  a number  of  letters 
on  the  subject  of  this  property,  for  Madison 
loyally  took  upon  his  heavily-burdened  shoul- 
ders all  the  interests,  financial  and  otherwise, 
of  his  wife  and  her  family. 

In  1797  Washington’s  administration  came 
to  an  end,  and  with  it  Dolly  Madison’s  life  in 
Philadelphia.  The  last  public  ceremony  at 
which  she  and  her  husband  took  part  was  the 
inauguration  of  John  Adams,  and  it  was  their 
privilege  to  witness  the  ineffably  pathetic  scene 
of  Washington’s  farewell,  when  the  people, 
frantic  with  grief,  followed  him  to  the  very 
74 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


door  of  his  house  as  though  they  could  not  let 
him  go. 

One  who  witnessed  the  scene,  writes  of  it 
thus : — 

“Adams  entered  in  a full  suit  of  fine  grey  cloth, 
but  every  eye  was  fixed  on  Washington  who  wore 
a full  suit  of  black  velvet,  his  hair  powdered  and 
in  a bag,  diamond  knee-buckles  and  a light  sword 
with  grey  scabbard.  Behind  him  was  Jefferson, 
gaunt,  ungainly,  square-shouldered  with  foxy  hair, 
dressed  in  blue  coat,  small-clothes,  vest  of  crimson; 
near  by  was  pale,  reflective  Madison  and  burly, 
bustling  Knox.  After  the  inaugural,  Adams  left 
the  room  followed  by  Jefferson;  still  people  stood 
motionless  till  Washington  descended  from  the 
platform  and  left  the  hall  to  go  down  the  street  to 
the  Indian  Queen,  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  new 
President. 

“The  immense  crowd  followed  him  as  one 
man,  but  in  total  silence.  After  he  had  gone  in, 
a smothered  sound  went  up  from  the  multitude  like 
thunder,  for  he  was  passing  away  from  them  to  be 
seen  no  more.  The  door  opened,  and  he  stood  on 
the  threshold  looking  at  the  people.  Ko  man  ever 
saw  him  so  deeply  moved.  The  tears  rolled  down 
over  his  cheeks;  then  he  bowed  slow  and  low,  and 
the  door  closed.” 

The  Madisons  now  took  their  leave  of  Phil- 
adelphia and  returned  for  a season  to  the 
75 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Virginia  mountain  home,  where,  during  the 
Adams  administration,  Mrs.  Madison  led  a 
quiet  and  domestic  life,  so  hidden  from  the 
world  that  the  record  of  it  is  fragmentary  and 
defies  research.  Here  and  there,  however,  I 
find  allusions  to  her  in  the  letters  written  to  her 
husband;  Jefferson  rarely  closes  his  gravest 
communications  without  some  salutations  to 
her.  Now,  it  is,  “ Present  me  affectionately  to 
Mrs.  Madison,  and  convey  to  her  my  entreaties 
to  interpose  her  good  offices  and  persuasions 
with  you  to  bring  her  here  and  before  we  un- 
cover our  house,  which  will  yet  be  some  weeks.” 
Again  he  bids  Madison  tell  his  wife  “ her 
friend,  Madame  d’Yrujo,  is  as  well  as  one  can 
be  near  so  formidable  a crisis.”  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  of  this  young  wife  that  there  was 
not  a single  one  of  her  husband’s  friends  to 
whom  she  did  not  show  herself  as  friendly  as 
he,  and  that  she  was  so  closely  associated  in  the 
minds  of  all  with  that  husband,  that  they  spoke 
of  them  always  together. 

Tradition  attributes  Jefferson’s  affection  for 
Dolly  Madison  to  a certain  tenderness  which  he 
was  said  to  have  cherished  in  his  early  days 
for  her  mother,  the  beautiful  Mary  Coles, 
rumor  even  making  him  a suitor  for  her  hand. 
But  “ certain  tendernesses  ” were  so  common 
among  the  Virginia  Cavaliers,  and  especially 
76 


THE  GREAT  LITTLE  MADISON 


with  the  susceptible  young  Tom  Jefferson,  that 
had  he  taken  all  the  children  of  his  old  flames 
into  special  regard,  his  sentiment  must  have 
embraced  a goodly  share  of  his  native  State.  I 
incline,  therefore,  to  the  opinion  that  the  warm 
place  which  young  Mrs.  Madison  held  in  his 
esteem  was  primarily  an  extension  of  the  regard 
which  he  had  so  long  felt  for  her  husband,  but 
that  this  very  soon  gave  place  to  a much  more 
personal  affection,  in  which  his  whole  family 
shared,  and  which  was  simply  and  solely  the 
result  of  Dolly  Madison’s  gifts  and  graces. 

In  1799  the  whole  country  was  saddened  by 
the  death  of  Washington.  Mrs.  Madison,  like 
the  rest  of  the  world,  wore  the  same  mourning 
as  for  the  death  of  a relative,  and  she  and  her 
husband  went  to  Mount  Yernon  to  express  to 
the  widowed  Martha  Washington  the  sympathy 
and  condolence  of  near  friends.  In  the  same 
year  they  had  been  called  to  mourn  for  the  loss 
of  their  kinsman  Patrick  Henry,  who  died  at 
his  estate,  in  Virginia,  on  the  sixth  of  June. 
Save  for  such  sorrows  as  these,  the  years  of  re- 
tirement passed  peacefully  with  the  Madisons. 

In  1800  Mrs.  Madison’s  sister,  Mary  Payne, 
was  married  to  John  G.  Jackson,  a member  of 
Congress  from  Virginia.  Otherwise  her  family 
circle  knew  few  changes.  Little  Payne  Todd 
was  passing  a happy  childhood  among  the  fields 
77 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of  Montpellier.  Mrs.  Madison  was  enjoying  the 
quiet  Virginia  life  as  much  as  she  had  enjoyed 
the  gay  days  in  Philadelphia,  and  Madison 
himself  was  as  busy  as  ever,  for  he  had  with- 
drawn from  the  Congress  of  the  United  States 
only  to  serve  his  country  after  another  fashion, 
in  the  halls  of  the  Virginia  Assembly.  He  and 
his  wife  never  returned  to  take  up  their  resi- 
dence in  Philadelphia,  for,  before  Madison  was 
called  again  to  take  part  in  national  affairs,  the 
seat  of  government  had  once  more  been  changed 
— this  time  permanently  — to  the  site  on  the 
northern  bank  of  the  Potomac  agreed  upon, 
after  many  arguments  and  discussions,  so  hot 
and  bitter  that  they  threatened  the  life  of  the 
nation : the  new  capital,  christened  Washing- 
ton in  honor  of  the  nation’s  chief. 


78 


Y 


THE  NEW  CAPITAL 

Washington,  unlike  Topsy,  was  made,  in- 
stead of  growing.  Congress  said : “ Let  there 
be  a city  ! ” but  in  answer  to  its  command 
there  arose  no  real  city,  but  only  a straggling 
line  of  fine  buildings  in  the  heart  of  a wilder- 
ness. The  poet  Tom  Moore,  who  came  over  to 
America  in  the  first  years  of  the  existence  of 
the  new  capital,  wrote  ironically  of 

“ This  famed  metropolis  where  fancy  sees 
Squares  in  morasses,  obelisks  in  trees, 

Which  travelling  fools  and  gazetteers  adorn 
With  shrines  unbuilt  and  heroes  yet  unborn.” 

Another  traveller  reported  that  in  a space  as 
large  as  the  entire  town  of  New  York,  there 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  save  brick-kilns  and 
laborers’  huts.  Gouverneur  Morris  wrote  jest- 
ingly to  the  Princess  de  Tours  et  Taxis  that 
nothing  was  wanted  except  houses,  cellars, 
well-informed  men,  amiable  women,  and  a few 
other  trifles,  to  make  the  capital  perfect,  and 

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DOLLY  MADISON 


that  it  was  indeed  an  ideal  city  — for  future 
residence. 

At  the  time  when  Dolly  Madison  came  to 
Washington,  and  by  invitation  of  President 
Jefferson  assisted  in  his  official  hospitalities, 
the  White  House  stood  on  the  spot  where  it 
stands  to-day,  but  uninclosed,  on  a stretch  of 
waste  and  barren  ground,  separated  from  the 
Capitol  by  a dreary  and  almost  impassable 
marsh,  while  the  presidential  mansion,  unfin- 
ished as  it  was,  and  standing  among  the  rough 
masses  of  stone  and  rubbish,  looked  more  like 
a ruin  than  a rising  dwelling.  Of  its  interior 
we  have  a very  graphic  description  in  a letter 
written  by  Abigail  Adams,  whose  ill  fortune  it 
was  to  take  the  brunt  of  the  pioneering  at  the 
capital,  and  to  have  only  time  enough  to  set 
the  White  House  in  order  for  her  successors. 
The  conditions  under  which  she  began  her 
life  in  Washington  would  surely  have  daunted 
any  spirit  less  indomitable  than  hers. 

On  the  twenty-first  of  November,  1800,  she 
writes  to  her  daughter  Mrs.  Smith,  from  the 
White  House : — 

“My  dear  Child.  — I arrived  here  on  Sunday 
last,  and  without  meeting  with  any  accident  worth 
noticing,  except  losing  ourselves  when  we  left  Bal- 
timore, and  going  eight  or  nine  miles  on  the  Fred- 
erick road,  by  which  means  we  were  obliged  to  go 
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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


the  other  eight  through  woods  where  we  wandered 
two  hours  without  finding  a guide,  or  the  path.  For- 
tunately a straggling  black  came  ujj  with  -us,  aud 
we  engaged  him  as  a guide,  to  extricate  us  out  of 
our  difficulty;  hut  woods  are  all  you  see,  from 
Baltimore  until  you  reach  the  City  which  is  only 
so  in  name.  Here  and  there  is  a small  cot  without 
a glass  window,  interspersed  amongst  the  forests 
through  which  you  travel  miles  without  seeing  any 
human  being. 

“In  the  city  there  are  buildings  enough,  if  they 
were  compact  and  finished,  to  accommodate  Congress 
and  those  attached  to  it;  but  as  they  are,  and  scat- 
tered as  they  are,  I see  no  great  comfort  for  them. 
The  river,  which  runs  up  to  Alexandria,  is  in  full 
view  of  my  window,  and  I see  the  vessels  as  they 
pass  and  repass.  The  house  is  on  a grand  and 
superb  scale,  requiring  about  thirty  servants  to 
attend  and  keep  the  apartments  in  proper  order, 
and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the  house  and 
stables;  an  establishment  very  well  proportioned  to 
the  President’s  salary.  The  lighting  of  the  apart- 
ments from  the  kitchen  to  parlors  and  chambers  is 
a tax  indeed,  and  the  fires  we  are  obliged  to  keep  to 
secure  us  from  daily  agues  is  another  very  cheer- 
ful comfort.  To  assist  us  in  this  great  castle,  and 
render  less  attendance  necessary,  bells  are  wholly 
wanting,  not  one  single  one  being  hung  through 
the  whole  house,  and  promises  are  all  you  can  ob- 
tain. This  is  so  great  an  inconvenience  tljat  I 
know  not  what  to  do,  or  how  to  do. 

6 81 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“The  ladies  from  Georgetown  and  in  this  city 
have  many  of  them  visited  me.  Yesterday  I re- 
turned fifteen  visits,  hut  such  a place  as  George- 
town appears ! Why,  our  Milton  is  beautiful,  — 
but  no  comparisons ! if  they  will  put  me  up  some 
hells,  and  let  me  have  wood  enough  to  keep  fires,  I 
design  to  he  pleased.  I could  content  myself 
almost  anywhere  three  months;  but  surrounded 
with  forests,  can  you  believe  that  wood  is  not  to  he 
had,  because  people  cannot  be  found  to  cut  and 
cart  it!  Briesler  entered  into  a contract  with  a 
man  to  supply  him  with  wood;  a small  part,  a few 
cords  only,  has  he  been  able  to  get.  Most  of  that 
was  expended  to  dry  the  walls  of  the  house  before 
we  came  in,  and  yesterday  the  man  told  him  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  procure  it  to  be  cut  and 
carted.  He  has  had  recourse  to  coals,  but  we  can- 
not get  grates  made  and  set.  We  have  indeed 
come  into  a new  country. 

“ You  must  keep  all  this  to  yourself,  and,  when 
asked  how  I like  it,  say  that  I write  you  the  situa- 
tion is  beautiful,  which  is  true.  The  house  is 
made  habitable ; but  there  is  not  a single  apartment 
finished,  and  all  withinside,  except  the  plastering, 
has  been  done  since  Briesler  came.  We  have  not 
the  least  fence,  yard,  or  other  convenience,  without ; 
and  the  great  unfinished  audience-room  I make  a 
drying  room  of,  to  hang  up  the  clothes  in.  The 
principal  stairs  are  not  up,  and  will  not  be  this 
winter.  Six  chambers  are  made  comfortable.  Two 
are  occupied  by  the  President  and  Mr.  Shaw ; two 
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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


lower  rooms,  one  for  a common  parlor  and  one 
for  a levee-room.  Up-stairs  there  is  the  oval  room, 
which  is  designed  for  the  drawing-room,  and  has 
the  crimson  furniture  in  it.  It  is  a very  handsome 
room  now ; but  when  completed,  it  will  be  beauti- 
ful. If  the  twelve  years  in  which  this  place  has 
been  considered  as  the  future  seat  of  Government 
had  been  improved,  as  they  would  have  been  in 
New  England,  very  many  of  the  present  inconven- 
iences would  have  been  removed.  It  is  a beauti- 
ful spot,  capable  of  every  improvement,  and  the 
more  I view  it,  the  more  I am  delighted  with  it.” 

Four  months  after  this  letter  was  written, 
Abigail  Adams  had  turned  her  back  upon 
the  difficulties  and  the  delights  of  White- 
House-keeping,  and  Doily  Madison  was  presid- 
ing over  receptions  and  dinner-parties  within 
the  walls  of  the  mansion. 

The  spring  of  1801  saw  Thomas  Jefferson 
installed  as  President  of  the  United  States. 
After  a bitter  campaign  of  Federalists  against 
Republicans,  and  a no  less  bitter  struggle 
in  the  House  when  the  votes  for  Jefferson  and 
Burr  were  pronounced  a tie,  the  former  was  at 
last  declared  the  successful  candidate,  with  the 
latter  as  Vice-President,  and  was  duly  inaugur- 
ated on  the  fourth  of  March.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Madison  could  not  be  present  to  witness  this 
crowning  moment  in  their  dear  friend’s  life, 

83 


DOLLY  MADISON 


much  as  they  must  have  longed  to  do  so,  for  a 
sad  family  event  detained  them  in  Virginia,  — - 
Madison’s  father  having  died  at  the  home- 
stead at  Montpellier,  on  the  twenty-seventh  of 
February,  in  the  seventy-eighth  year  of  his 
age.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  home  duties 
could  be  discharged,  Madison  hastened  to 
Washington  to  enter  upon  the  office  of  Sec- 
retary of  State  to  which  Jefferson  had  early 
appointed  him,  and  Mrs.  Madison  began  her 
public  life  as  the  wife  of  a cabinet  official. 

The  changes  introduced  by  the  new  admin- 
istration were  sweeping,  socially  as  well  as 
politically.  Jeffersonian  simplicity  was  the 
watchword  of  the  day.  The  new  President 
had  discarded  the  state  and  ceremony  which 
marked  the  public  functions  of  the  Washington 
administration.  A tradition,  discredited  by 
Henry  Adams,  but  dear  to  the  popular  heart, 
related  how,  in  place  of  driving  to  the  Capitol 
in  a coach  drawn  by  six  horses  and  attended  by 
outriders,  he  had  mounted  his  horse  and  ridden 
as  any  private  individual  might  have  done  to 
the  spot  where  he  was  to  take  the  oath  of 
office.  The  story  is  at  least  in  keeping  with 
the  simplicity  at  which  he  aimed.  His  dress 
was  as  unpretending  as  his  equipage,  and  he 
asked  no  higher  title  than  that  of  citizen. 

His  admirers  threw  up  their  hats,  and  re- 

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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


joiced  that  the  reign  of  “ Anglomany  ” was 
ended  and  that  there  was  to  be  a truly  republi- 
can rule.  His  enemies,  on  the  other  hand,  pre- 
dicted the  surrender  of  the  country  to  French 
influence.  Yoltaire  and  Thomas  Paine  were 
to  be  the  prophets,  and  Bonaparte  the  lawgiver 
of  the  new  administration.  So  they  said,  and 
there  was  some  ground  for  the  prediction, 
though  not  perhaps  for  the  exaggerated  out- 
cries of  the  public  press. 

Long  after  the  United  States  had  shaken  off 
the  political  yoke  of  Great  Britain,  English 
customs  and  traditions  still  swayed  the  newly 
emancipated  nation.  Washington,  with  all  his 
greatness,  was  a transplanted  English  squire ; 
Adams  and  his  administration  reflected  Puritan 
England,  distilled  through  Massachusetts  ; but 
Jefferson  came  into  office  swayed  professedly 
by  different  ideas  and  ideals.  He  had  wit- 
nessed the  early  enthusiasm  of  the  French 
Bevolution,  and  rejoiced  in  its  success.  He 
recalled  the  mutual  good  offices  exchanged 
between  France  and  America,  and  contrasted 
them  with  the  hostile  attitude  of  England. 
Both  were  still  fresh  in  the  minds  of  men. 

France  had  helped  us  in  the  struggle  with 
Great  Britain  as  no  other  nation  could  have 
done.  We  sent  her  Franklin.  She  lent  us 
Lafayette.  We  pointed  out  to  her  the  path  of 

85 


DOLLY  MADISON 


liberty,  and  Franklin’s  “ Qa  ira!”  furnished 
the  chorus  to  the  song  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tionists. There  was  thus  much  to  stir  a senti- 
ment of  sympathy  with  France ; but  gratitude 
is  a feebler  emotion  than  resentment,  and  the 
true  secret  of  the  public  sentiment  which  had 
put  forward  Thomas  Jefferson  lay  in  the  old, 
unsubduable  rancor  against  England. 

A people  is  not  changed  in  a day  however, 
and  there  were  many  to  bewail  the  under- 
mining of  the  old  faith,  and  the  uprooting 
of  the  good  old  social  traditions.  In  his  Re- 
miniscences of  a Life  Time,  Goodrich  gives 
himself  up  to  a sad  head-shaking  over  the 
degeneracy  in  manners  public  and  private. 
This  moralist,  with  the  alliterative  pen-name 
of  Peter  Parley,  writes  : “ Before  the  Jeffer- 
sonian era,  travellers  who  met  on  the  high- 
way saluted  each  other  with  formal  and 
dignified  courtesy,  and  children  stopped  as 
they  passed  a grown  person  and  made  the  bow 
they  had  been  practised  in  at  school  for  such 
occasions.  But  as  democracy  spread,  these 
formal  salutations  first  subsided  into  a vulgar 
nod,  half  ashamed  and  half  impudent,  and  then 
like  the  pendulum  of  a dying  clock  totally 
ceased.” 

Among  the  observers  of  the  rampant  democ- 
racy of  the  new  republican  court,  none  was  more 
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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


bitterly  resentful  than  Anthony  Merry,  the  Brit- 
ish Minister.  He  wrote  home  in  deep  disgust 
of  his  reception  on  the  occasion  when  he  went 
by  appointment  to  meet  the  President  of  the 
United  States.  He  complained  that  he  was 
kept  waiting  in  an  ante-room,  and  finally 
presented,  in  a most  undignified  manner, 
squeezed  against  the  wall  of  a passage-way, 
in  the  middle  of  which  he  and  Madison  un- 
expectedly encountered  the  President.  Merry 
himself  was  in  the  most  correct  of  ambas- 
sadorial costume,  and,  not  unnaturally,  was 
aghast  to  see  Jefferson,  his  tall,  shambling 
form  clad  in  garments  arranged  with  studied 
negligence,  his  shoes  somewhat  down  at  the 
heel  and  fastened  with  a shoe-string  in  place  of 
bow  or  buckle,  and  his  whole  appearance  indic- 
ative of  utter  indifference  to  the  dignity  of  a 
British  Minister’s  visit.  “ I could  not  doubt,” 
writes  the  irate  Merry,  “ that  the  whole  scene 
was  prepared  and  intended  as  an  insult,  not  to 
me  personally,  perhaps,  but  to  the  Sovereign  I 
represented.” 

Bad  as  this  beginning  was,  worse  remained  to 
be  told.  Diplomacy,  like  hell,  “ knows  no  fury 
like  a woman  scorned,”  and  a dinner-table  con- 
tretemps threatened  to  grow  into  an  international 
episode.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merry  were  invited  to 
the  White  House  to  dine  with  other  foreign  min- 


S7 


DOLLY  MADISON 


isters  and  members  of  the  cabinet,  with  their 
respective  wives.  Mrs.  Merry,  a dame  described 
by  Aaron  Burr  as  “ tall,  fair,  and  fat,  — mats 
pas  trap ,”  — and  who,  even  more  than  her 
husband,  had  personal  dignity  at  heart,  looked 
forward,  as  a matter  of  course,  to  enjoying  the 
precedence  due  to  the  most  distinguished  lady 
present ; and  great  was  her  wrath  when,  at  the 
announcement  of  dinner,  Jefferson  arose  and 
offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Madison,  who,  observ- 
ing the  other  lady’s  discomfiture,  strove  in  vain 
to  motion  him  to  take  Mrs.  Merry.  He  declined 
to  accept  the  suggestion,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
dining-room  with  the  wife  of  the  Secretary  of 
State,  while  Mrs.  Merry  fumed  in  the  procession 
behind. 

A sweet  opportunity  of  revenge  came  to  the 
Merrys  a little  later.  Jefferson,  who  was  by 
nature  a peacemaker,  thinking,  perhaps,  that 
the  lesson  of  democracy  had  been  sufficiently 
taught,  caused  Mr.  Merry  to  be  asked  informally 
whether  he  would  accept  an  invitation  to  a fam- 
ily dinner  at  the  White  House,  and  understand- 
ing that  the  reply  was  an  affirmative  the  Presi- 
dent wrote  with  his  own  hand  a personal  invita- 
tion ; to  which  this  absurd  person  responded  by 
a letter  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  asking  whether 
the  President  of  the  United  States  had  asked  him 
to  dinner  as  a private  gentleman  or  as  British 
88 


THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


Plenipotentiary ; for,  if  as  a private  gentleman, 
lie  must  obtain  his  Sovereign’s  permission, 
while,  if  the  invitation  was  to  he  accepted  in 
his  official  character,  he  must  have  an  assurance 
that  he  would  be  treated  with  the  respect  due  to 
it.  Madison’s  rejoinder  was  brief  and  to  the 
point,  and  left  little  doubt  in  Merry’s  mind  that 
the  President  of  the  United  States  had  decided 
to  conduct  his  household,  social  and  political, 
without  advice  from  the  British  Minister. 

One  would  think  that  the  lesson  by  this  time 
must  have  been  thoroughly  learned ; but  when 
Jefferson’s  eldest  daughter,  Martha,  who  had 
married  Thomas  Mann  Randolph,  came  to  pay 
her  father  a visit,  Mrs.  Merry  again  returned 
to  the  charge,  writing  to  inquire  whether  Mrs. 
Randolph  came  to  Washington  as  the  Presi- 
dent’s daughter  or  as  the  wife  of  a Virginia  gen- 
tleman, as,  in  the  former  case,  she  would  make 
the  first  call,  but  in  the  latter  case  should  expect 
to  receive  it.  Mrs.  Randolph  replied,  under  her 
father’s  instructions,  that  she  was  in  Washing- 
ton as  the  wife  of  a Virginia  gentleman,  and  as 
such  should  expect  the  first  call  from  the  wife 
of  the  British  Minister,  as  the  canons  of  official 
etiquette  drawn  up  by  Jefferson  declared  that 
all  strangers  in  the  city  should  be  visited  by  all 
residents  of  Washington. 

These  rebuffs  were  doubtless  rankling  in  the 

89 


DOLLY  MADISON 


soul  of  Merry  when  later  on  he  listened,  with 
favor,  to  the  treason  which  Burr  whispered 
in  his  ear  at  Philadelphia ; but,  meanwhile,  he 
saw  fit  to  smother  his  indignation,  and  beyond 
a passing  jest  between  Mrs.  Randolph  and  Mrs. 
Madison,  his  disaffection  met  with  little  atten- 
tion. Nor  did  he  meet  with  more  attention  from 
his  own  government,  for  not  only  did  it  make 
no  remonstrance,  but  Merry,  greatly  to  his 
amazement,  was  at  length  informed  that  his 
request  for  a recall  was  granted,  and  that  he 
would  be  relieved  as  Minister  to  the  United 
States  by  David  Montague  Erskine.  As  Merry 
had  never  made  any  such  request,  he  must 
have  felt  that  the  treatment  from  his  own  gov- 
ernment was  rather  more  insulting  than  that 
of  which  he  so  bitterly  complained  at  the  hands 
of  the  Republican  President. 

It  would  be  hard  to  overestimate  the  social 
influence  of  Mrs.  Madison  in  these  early  days 
of  Jefferson’s  administration.  As  both  the 
President’s  daughters  were  married  and  living 
at  a distance,  it  was  natural  that  much  of  the 
responsibility  of  official  entertaining  should 
fall  on  the  wife  of  his  most  intimate  friend, 
and  chief  cabinet  officer.  Many  little  notes 
have  been  preserved  in  which  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son begs  Mrs.  Madison  and  Miss  Payne  to  dine 
with  him,  or  presents  his  affectionate  saluta- 
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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


tions,  and  asks  their  assistance  in  taking  care 
of  “ female  friends  expected.” 

Next  to  the  White  House  the  residence  of 
the  Secretary  of  State  was  the  resort  of  the 
largest  number  of  visitors.  In  Mr.  Madison’s 
drawing-room,  ministers,  senators,  and  foreign 
diplomats  mingled  with  freedom  and  ease. 
Here  all  party  differences  were  laid  aside,  all 
strangeness  ceased,  and  under  Mrs.  Madison’s 
genial  leadership  Washington  official  society 
(made  up  of  the  most  incongruous  and  inhar- 
monious elements)  became,  as  Jefferson  him- 
self testified,  like  one  family. 

The  social  importance  thus,  as  it  were,  thrust 
upon  Mrs.  Madison  left  her  as  unspoiled  as  it 
found  her.  She  preserved  her  old  simple  man- 
ners and  habits  with  only  such  changes  as  the 
new  environment  required.  Her  table  contin- 
ued to  be  set  and  served  in  the  old  bounti- 
ful Virginia  fashion.  It  was  reported  to  her 
that  the  size  and  number  of  dishes  at  her  table 
had  been  ridiculed  by  the  wife  of  a foreign 
minister  (it  is  not  difficult  to  guess  which), 
who  had  remarked  that  her  dinner  was  more 
like  a harvest-home  supper,  than  the  entertain- 
ment of  a Secretary  of  State.  Mrs.  Madison 
replied  to  the  criticism,  with  her  usual  good 
nature  and  good  sense,  — that  the  profusion 
of  her  table  was  the  result  of  the  prosperity  of 

91 


DOLLY  MADISON 


her  country,  and  she  must  therefore  continue 
to  prefer  Virginia  liberality  to  European  ele- 
gance. 

A member  of  Congress  who  shared  the  hos- 
pitalities of  this  bountiful  table  writes  most 
appreciatively  of  its  merits.  “ An  excellent 
dinner,”  he  records,  after  one  of  the  feasts, 
and  then  proceeds  to  enumerate  the  dishes. 
“ The  round  of  beef  of  which  the  soup  is 
made,”  he  says,  “ is  called  ‘ bouilli.’  It  had  in 
the  dish  spices,  and  something  of  the  sweet 
herb  and  earlie  kind,  and  a rich  gravy.  It  is 
very  much  boiled  and  is  still  very  good.  We 
had  a dish  with  what  appeared  to  be  cabbage, 
much  boiled,  then  cut  in  long  strings  and 
somewhat  mashed  ; in  the  middle  a large  ham, 
with  the  cabbage  around.  It  looked  like  our 
country  dishes  of  bacon  and  cabbage,  with 
the  cabbage  mashed  up  after  being  boiled  till 
sodden  and  turned  dark.  The  dessert  good : 
much  as  usual,  except  two  dishes  which  ap- 
peared like  apple-pie  in  the  form  of  the  half  of 
a mush-melon,  the  flat  side  down,  top  creased 
deep,  and  the  color  a dark  brown.” 

I hold  in  my  hand  a sheet  of  yellow  paper, 
thrice  folded,  and  addressed  on  the  back  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dickins,  wherein  “ Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Madison  request  the  favor  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dickins  to  dine  with  them  on  Tuesday  at  four 

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THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


o’clock,”  — and  in  a lower  printed  line,  “ An 
answer  is  requested.” 

These  state  dinners,  after  whatever  fashion 
conducted,  were  formidable  affairs,  and  a seri- 
ous tax  on  both  the  strength  and  the  purse  of 
public  men.  The  White  House  wagon  was  got 
out  early  in  the  morning  to  go  to  Georgetown  to 
market,  and  the  day’s  provisions  often  cost  as 
much  as  fifty  dollars.  Even  the  President’s  sal- 
ary was  scarcely  adequate  to  meet  the  expense 
of  official  entertaining,  as  Jefferson  soon  found, 
to  the  delight  of  his  enemies.  “ He  always 
thought,”  said  the  “ New  England  Palladium,” 
“ twenty-five  thousand  dollars  a great  salary 
when  Mr.  Adams  had  it.  Now  he  will  un- 
doubtedly think  twelve  thousand  five  hundred 
enough.  Monticello  is  not  far  away ; he  can 
easily  send  home  his  clothes  to  be  washed  and 
mended ; his  servants  he  owns,  and  his  vegeta- 
bles he  can  bring  from  his  estate.” 

State  dinner-parties,  heavily  as  they  taxed 
time  and  money,  were  powerful  political  factors, 
however,  and  all  the  more  so  under  the  tactful 
sway  of  “ Queen  Dolly.”  The  offer  of  her 
snuff-box  was  a balm  to  wounded  feelings,  and 
her  hearty  laugh  raised  a breeze  which  blew 
away  many  a diplomatic  awkwardness.  It  was 
customary  to  dine  in  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, and  the  company  frequently  sat  at  table 

93 


DOLLY  MADISON 


throughout  the  whole  evening,  talking  and 
drinking  toasts.  The  old  drinking  habit  was 
declining,  and  drunkenness  no  longer  so  fashion- 
able as  it  had  been ; but  Madison’s  port  and 
madeira  were  popular,  and  though  he  himself 
was  most  temperate,  and,  as  his  body  servant 
says,  would  scarcely  more  than  raise  his  glass 
to  his  lips,  his  guests  were  for  the  greater  part 
men  who  shared  Willis’s  aversion  to  water- 
drinking, though  lacking  perhaps  the  subtle 
analysis  of  their  dislike  which  the  dapper 
dilettante  gave  when  he  declared,  with  a mock 
shudder,  that  water  had  tasted  of  sinners  ever 
since  the  Flood. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  spared  many  of  the  ques- 
tions of  dinner  etiquette  which  vex  the  soul  of 
the  English  hostess,  by  a clause  in  the  new 
republican  code  of  manners,  which  declared 
that  “ at  dinners,  public  and  private,  perfect 
equality  exists  between  the  guests,  and  to  give 
force  to  the  principle  of  equality  or  pele  mele , 
and  to  prevent  the  growth  of  precedence  out  of 
courtesy,  the  members  of  the  Executive  at  their 
own  houses  will  adhere  to  the  ancient  usage 
of  their  ancestors,  — gentlemen  en  masse  giv- 
ing place  to  the  ladies  en  masse." 

The  autumn  of  the  year  after  her  coming  to 
Washington  brought  Mrs.  Madison  a great 
pleasure  in  the  visit  of  her  dear  friends,  Mrs. 

94 


THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


Randolph  and  Mrs.  Eppes,  to  their  father  in  the 
"White  House.  Martha  Jefferson,  was  almost 
exactly  of  the  same  age  as  Mrs.  Madison,  and 
they  were  bound  together  by  the  closest  ties, 
while  for  Mrs.  Eppes,  the  beautiful  little  Polly, 
who  years  ago  had  found  Monticello  “ bien 
different  de  Paris”  Dolly  Madison  shared  the 
admiration  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

To  Mrs.  Madison  it  fell  to  make  the  prep- 
aration of  toilet,  which  were  necessary  to  dames 
living  several  days’  journey  from  a fashion 
model  or  a milliner,  in  an  age  when  dress 
was  even  more  important  than  now,  and  where, 
to  be  duly  hideous  in  the  mode,  a woman 
must  be  attired  in  wide-spreading  hoops,  with 
high-heeled  shoes  and  hair  tortured  into  pyra- 
mids and  crisped  into  curls,  or  cut  off  to  be 
replaced  by  the  more  conveniently  arranged  wig. 

This  fashionable  wig  was  greatly  coveted  by 
all  dames  and  damsels  who  aspired  to  belle- 
ship.  Charming  Eliza  Bowne  writes  home : 
“ Now,  mamma,  what  do  you  think  I am  going 
to  ask  for  ? A Wig  ! ” She  complains  that 
she  cannot  dress  her  hair  “ stylish,”  and  can- 
not endure  a second  time  the  mortification  of 
being  the  only  young  woman  wearing  her  own 
hair  at  the  assembly.  Then  the  artful  pleader 
argues  that  in  a year  the  price  could  be  saved 
in  pins  and  paper,  and  finally  urges  an  imrne- 

95 


DOLLY  MADISON 


diate  remittance  of  the  necessary  five  dollars 
to  procure  the  yearned-for  ai'ticle  before  the 
next  assembly.  The  wig  question,  it  would 
seem,  was  agitating  the  whole  country,  or  at 
least  the  petticoated  half  of  the  nation,  for  in 
view  of  the  coming  visit  to  Washington,  Martha 
Jefferson  Randolph  writes  to  her  father  from 
Virginia : 

Oct.  29,  1802. 

Dear  Papa,  — We  received  your  letter,  and 
are  prepared  with  all  speed  to  obey  its  summons. 
By  next  Friday  I hope  we  shall  be  able  to  fix  a 
day;  and  probably  the  shortest  time  in  which  the 
horses  can  be  sent  after  receiving  our  letter  will 
determine  it,  though  as  yet  it  is  not  certain  that 
we  can  get  off  so  soon. 

Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  send  orders  to  the 
milliner,  — Madame  Peck,  I believe  her  name  is, — 
through  Mrs.  Madison,  who  very  obligingly  offered 
to  execute  any  little  commission  for  us  in  Phila- 
delphia, for  two  wigs  of  the  color  of  the  hair  en- 
closed, and  of  the  most  fashionable  shapes,  that 
they  may  be  in  Washington  when  we  arrive  ? 
They  are  universally  worn,  and  will  relieve  us  as  to 
the  necessity  of  dressing  our  own  hair,  a business 
in  which  neither  of  us  are  adepts. 

I believe  Madame  Peck  is  in  the  habit  of  doing 
these  things,  and  they  can  be  procured  in  a short 
time  from  Philadelphia,  where  she  corresponds, 
much  handsomer  than  elsewhere. 

Adieu,  dearest  Father. 


96 


THE  NEW  CAPITAL 


This  kind  of  commission  was  specially  pleas- 
ing to  Mrs.  Madison  whose  love  of  shopping 
was  only  second  to  her  love  for  her  friends. 
The  winter  of  1802-3  was  one  of  the  happiest 
and  gayest  of  her  life.  Her  young  sister  Anna 
who  lived  with  her,  brought  to  the  house  much 
company,  which  was  always  specially  congenial 
to  Mrs.  Madison,  and  she  found  much  unselfish 
delight,  too,  in  the  social  success  of  the  Presi- 
dent’s daughters.  In  after  years,  she  loved  to 
tell  of  the  deep  impression  made  on  Washing- 
ton society  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  older  sister 
and  the  radiant  beauty  of  the  younger.  Their 
stay  in  the  capital  was  short,  however,  for 
Mrs.  Randolph  had  left  a large  family  of  small 
children  at  home  in  Virginia,  and  in  January 
they  bade  farewell  to  Washington,  one  of  them 
never  to  see  it  again.  In  little  more  than  a 
year,  Mrs.  Eppes,  always  delicate,  faded  out  of 
life  and  died  in  her  sister’s  arms,  leaving  two 
little  children  to  that  sister’s  care. 


97 


VI 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 

While  Madison  was  Secretary  of  State, 
Gilbert  Stuart  painted  for  him  a number  of 
family  portraits.  The  likeness  of  the  Secretary 
is,  I suspect,  a little  flattered,  and  lends  a light 
to  the  eye  and  a ruddy  tone  to  the  skin  which 
are  absent  from  all  other  portraits.  The  picture 
of  Mrs.  Madison  is  less  satisfactory,  and  though 
she  herself  was  quite  enthusiastic  over  its 
merits,  it  certainly  does  not  do  justice  to  the 
alertness  and  vivacity  of  the  original.  Far 
better  is  the  miniature  done  by  Lieber  at  the 
same  time  with  a companion  picture  of  Madison, 
— both  full  of  charm. 

Stuart  painted  also  a portrait  of  Anna  Payne, 
and  that  lively  young  lady  was  one  of  his 
especial  favorites.  One  day  while  sitting  to 
him  she  complained  that  it  was  really  too  bad 
that  he  had  never  made  any  portrait  of  himself, 
whereupon,  with  a few  swift  and  skilful  touches, 
the  painter  introduced  a burlesque  likeness  of 
his  own  features  as  part  of  the  drapery  of 
Mistress  Anna’s  portrait. 

98 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


It  was  a great  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Madison  to 
have  this  young  sister  with  her,  and  it  was  with 
deep  regret  that  she  parted  with  her,  at  her 
marriage  to  Mr.  Richard  D.  Cutts,  a dark- 
haired, broad-browed,  handsome  young  man  of 
good  family,  and  of  such  marked  ability  that 
he  was  chosen  for  many  years  as  Representa- 
tive to  Congress  from  Maine.  He  was  regarded 
with  favor  by  many  bright  eyes  in  Washington, 
and  was  quite  a squire  of  dames  at  home  and 
abroad.  “ Richard  Cutts  went  shopping  with 
me  yesterday  morn,”  writes  Eliza  Bowne,  and 
adds,  “ Engaged  to  go  to  the  play  next  week 
with  him.” 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  appear  to  have  been 
entirely  satisfied  with  the  character  and  posi- 
tion of  Mr.  Cutts,  but  to  Mrs.  Madison  it  was 
a trial  to  give  up  even  partially  the  sister  who 
had  been  like  a daughter  to  her,  and  the  District 
of  Maine  where  Anna  must  look  forward  to 
making  her  future  home  was  further  from 
Virginia  than  it  is  to-day  from  Alaska. 

Nevertheless  to  a lover  of  gayety  there  was 
much  to  cheer  in  the  preparations  for  the 
marriage  which  was  celebrated  with  great 
merry-making  in  April,  1804.  The  bride  and 
groom  departed  afterward  for  Maine,  and 
Mrs.  Madison  followed  them  along  their  wed- 
ding journey  with  loving  messages  and  a 

99 


DOLLY  MADISON 


full  account  of  all  that  was  going  on  in 
Washington. 

These  letters  are  a curious  reflection  of  Mrs. 
Madison’s  mind  which  was  wont  to  see  life 
somewhat  out  of  focus.  Small  things  in  them 
are  writ  large  and  large  things  small.  Much 
space  is  occupied  with  the  Baron  von  Hum- 
boldt’s visit,  with  the  Fourth  of  July  oration 
delivered  by  Mr.  Van  Ness,  with  tea-drinking 
with  the  Fingays  and  Mrs.  Forrest ; a few  lines 
coupled  with  moral  reflections  are  devoted  to 
the  death  of  young  Mrs.  Eppes  which  occurred 
just  at  this  time,  and  exactly  one  sentence 
is  given  to  an  event  which  was  shaking  the 
country  with  wild  excitement.  On  the  sixteenth 
of  July,  1804,  she  writes  that  they  are  about 
setting  out  for  Montpellier.  At  the  close  of  the 
letter,  quite  by  the  way  as  it  were,  she  adds, 
“ You  have  no  doubt  heard  of  the  terrible  duel, 
and  death  of  poor  Hamilton.”  Not  a word 
further  touching  that  awful  July  morning 
when  Alexander  Hamilton  was  shot  through 
the  body  by  Aaron  Burr  under  the  rocky  heights 
of  Weehawken.  The  news  had  flown  like 
wildfire  all  over  the  country,  — everywhere 
shops  were  closed,  flags  at  half  mast,  church- 
bells  tolling,  and  half  the  nation  wearing  badges 
of  mourning  for  the  great  dead,  and  Mrs.  Madi- 
son has  but  a passing  word  and  regret  for  it  all. 

100 


WIFE  OF  TEE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


The  silence  of  Mrs.  Madison  on  this,  as  on 
all  the  leading  questions  and  burning  issues  of 
the  day,  may  be  interpreted  as  part  of  that  cau- 
tion and  good  judgment  which  warned  her  not 
to  involve  her  husband  by  the  expression  of  an 
opinion  sure  to  be  publicly  understood  as  a re- 
flection of  his.  There  was  a grain  of  truth  in 
the  remark  of  a diplomatist,  that  he  preferred 
to  marry  a fool  rather  than  a clever  woman, 
as  the  former  could  only  compromise  herself, 
whereas  the  latter  might  compromise  both  her- 
self and  her  husband.  Dolly  Madison  was  fur- 
ther removed  from  folly  than  from  cleverness, 
but  there  is  no  doubt  that  a great  element  of  her 
success  lay  in  the  negative  quality  of  making 
no  false  moves.  She  was  brilliant  in  the  things 
she  did  not  say  and  do. 

In  the  matter  of  the  Burr-Hamilton  duel-,  it 
was  probable  that,  under  all  her  genuine  regret 
and  horror  of  the  tragedy,  there  was  a certain 
relief  of  mind  at  seeing  a formidable  enemy 
of  her  husband  and  of  her  husband’s  nearest 
friend  thus  suddenly  swept  from  the  field. 
The  word  “ enemy  ” is,  perhaps,  too  strong  to 
use  in  this  case,  especially  of  one  wdio  had 
been  a coadjutor  in  the  great  work  of  the  “ Fed- 
eralist ; ” yet  it  was  only  a few  years  before 
that  Hamilton  had  written,  “ I am  convinced 
that  Madison,  co-operating  with  Jefferson,  is  at 
101 


DOLLY  MADISON 


the  head  of  a faction  decidedly  hostile  to  me 
and  my  administration,  and  actuated  by  views, 
in  my  judgment,  subversive  of  the  principles  of 
good  government,  and  dangerous  to  the  union, 
peace,  and  happiness  of  the  country.”  A relief 
it  certainly  wTas  to  Jefferson  and  Madison  to  be 
rid  of  this  worrying  critic ; but  they  never 
desired  to  be  rid  of  him  in  such  a way ; nor 
could  they  fail  to  feel  horror  and  indignation 
at  “ the  deep  damnation  of  his  taking  off.”  Yet 
they  failed  signally  to  show  their  indignation 
by  their  treatment  of  Hamilton’s  murderer. 

When  Burr  fled  from  the  justice  which  was 
likely  to  be  meted  out  to  him  in  New  York,  he 
skulked  about  for  some  time  in  Philadelphia, 
plotting  treason  with  Anthony  Merry,  who,  after 
the  wont  of  foreign  ministers,  had  escaped  from 
the  heat  of  Washington  after  the  adjournment  of 
Congress.  Burr  was  already  brooding  over  his 
scheme  to  break  up  the  Union,  and  Merry,  em- 
bittered by  his  personal  pique,  was  ready  to  fall 
in  with  his  plans,  and  lend  him  what  help  he 
could  in  seeking  the  aid  of  his  government. 
On  the  sixth  of  August,  Merry  wrote  to  Lord 
Harrowby  : “ I have  just  received  an  offer  from 
* Mr.  Burr,  the  actual  Vice-President  of  the 
United  States  (which  position  he  is  about  to 
resign),  to  lend  his  assistance  to  His  Majesty’s 
government  in  any  manner  in  which  they  may 
102 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


think  fit  to  employ  him  ; particularly  in  endeav- 
oring to  effect  a separation  of  the  western  part 
of  the  United  States  from  that  ivhich  lies  be- 
tween the  Atlantic  and  the  mountains  in  its 
ivliole  extent 

Blacker  treason  no  man  ever  plotted.  Yet, 
■when  this  murderer  and  traitor  returned  to 
Washington  he  had  the  effrontery  to  demand 
the  social  recognition  due  to  the  office  which  he 
had  thus  shamefully  prostituted,  and  Jefferson 
and  Madison  (ignorant,  of  course,  of  his  in- 
tended treason  to  the  nation,  but  knowing  full 
well  his  personal  character)  were  weak  enough 
to  yield  it  to  him.  Burr’s  biographer  writes  : 
“ The  President  and  Vice-President  were  on 
about  the  same  terms  as  ever.  Colonel  Burr 
dined  at  the  White  House  twice  a month.  Be- 
tween himself  and  Mr.  Madison  there  was  an 
appearance  of  friendliness  and  a growing  reality 
of  reserve.  Theodosia  and  the  beautiful  Mrs. 
Madison  seem  to  have  been  on  terms  of  con- 
siderable intimacy.”  This  intimacy  was,  no 
doubt,  reckoned  upon  by  Burr  as  a factor  of 
some  political  importance  ; but  whatever  influ- 
ence Mrs.  Madison  had  over  her  husband  was 
purely  personal ; she  neither  mingled  nor  wished 
to  mingle  directly  in  politics.  She  seems  to 
have  accepted  quite  literally  the  poet’s  instruc- 
tions to  her  sex : “ Your  best,  your  noblest 
103 


DOLLY  MADISON 


mission  is  to  please  ; ” and  within  the  limits 
of  her  ambition  no  one  was  more  successful. 

Social  success,  such  as  hers,  is  not  won  with- 
out sacrifices.  The  four  seasons  spent  in  the 
arduous  and  fatiguing  duties  and  pleasures  of 
life  at  the  capital  had  begun  to  tell  upon  her 
health.  The  dampness  of  the  malarial  marshes 
about  Washington  and  the  recently  overturned 
earth  were  probably  responsible  for  the  serious 
illness  which  overtook  her  in  the  summer  of 
1804,  fortunately  not  until  she  was  safely 
ensconced  in  her  dry  and  healthful  mountain 
home.  Here  the  inflammatory  rheumatism 
which  troubled  her  throughout  her  life  developed 
itself,  and  she  declared  that  never  before  had 
she  known  what  it  was  to  suffer  such  pain.  Her 
husband’s  mother,  already  an  old  lady,  proved 
herself  an  efficient  and  untiring  nurse,  but  the 
invalid’s  nerves  were  tried  by  the  never-ceasing 
round  of  visitors  who  were  accustomed  to  look 
upon  Montpellier  as  an  agreeable  stopping- 
place,  and  to  consider  an  invitation  as  an  un- 
necessary formality.  On  the  day  when  she  was 
suffering  most,  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  family 
connections  came  to  dinner ; but  the  invalid 
was  too  ill  to  leave  her  bed,  and  was  spared  the 
task  of  social  entertaining  which  was  beginning 
to  prove  a serious  burden,  as  is  evident  from 
the  stray  half-unconscious  confessions  which 
104 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


now  appear  from  time  to  time  in  the  confidences 
of  her  domestic  letters. 

It  was  a great  relief  to  Mrs.  Madison  and  to 
her  husband  occasionally  to  run  away  from  all 
these  domestic  cares  and  be  themselves  the 
visitors.  Jefferson’s  house  at  Monticello  was 
situated  near  Charlottesville,  about  thirty  miles 
to  the  southwest  of  Montpellier,  and  the  Madi- 
sons’ horses  easily  traversed  the  distance  in  a 
single  day.  The  doors  of  Monticello,  always 
open  to  guests,  were  thrown  wider  than  ever  at 
the  approach  of  the  Madisons,  who  were  prime 
favorites  with  every  one  in  the  household,  and 
such  frequent  guests  that  a special  chamber 
was  set  apart  and  known  as  the  Madison  room. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  were  constantly  receiv- 
ing such  notes  as  the  following : — 

Monticello. 

Dear  Sir,  — 

We  shall  be  happy  to  see  Mrs.  Madison  and  your- 
self to-morrow,  and  shall  wait  dinner  for  you  till 
half  past  four,  believing  you  will  easily  reach  this 
before  that  hour.  My  Ford  has  been  a little  in- 
jured by  the  freshet,  but  is  perfectly  safe.  It  has  a 
hollow  of  about  nine  inches  deep  and  six  feet  wide, 
washed  in  one  place  exactly  in  the  middle  of  the 
river,  but  even  in  that  it  will  not  be  to  the  belly  of 
the  horse.  I salute  you  with  great  affection  and 
respect.  Th.  Jefferson. 


105 


DOLLY  MADLSON 


Monticello  would  have  been  an  interesting 
spot  to  visit  even  without  the  inspiring  presence 
of  its  master,  though,  indeed,  it  seemed  so  much 
a part  of  him,  that  it  was  difficult  to  separate 
them.  Here  all  Jefferson’s  inventive  fancy 
was  turned  loose,  and  the  whole  house  was  full 
of  his  strange  devices.  The  weather-vane 
ingeniously  contrived  to  mark  the  direction  of 
the  wind  on  a dial-plate  ; the  clock  hung  above 
the  doorway  with  its  two  faces,  one  turned 
inward  toward  the  hall,  the  other  out  toward 
the  portico;  the  cannon-ball  weights  which 
moved  the  clock  and  rolled  over  a plate  mark- 
ing the  days  of  the  week,  — these  were  only  a 
few  of  Jefferson’s  inventions.  The  most  curi- 
ous arrangement  of  all  was  the  planning  of  his 
bedroom,  which  was  divided  from  that  of  his 
wife  by  a partition  through  which  an  archway 
was  cut,  and  under  this  arch  stood  the  bed,  half 
in  each  apartment. 

Many  years  before  Mrs.  Madison  visited 
Monticello  Mrs.  Jefferson  had  died,  and  Jeffer- 
son would  have  been  left  lonely  indeed  but  for 
the  love  of  his  children  and  later  of  his  grand- 
children, and  the  companionship  of  old  and  true 
friends  whom  he  loved  to  gather  about  him. 
The  Madisons  often  extended  their  visits  over 
a period  of  weeks,  and  they  were  treated  entirely 
as  members  of  the  family.  It  was  Mrs.  Madi- 
10G 


WIFE  OF  TEE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


son’s  delight  to  sit  down  with  the  elder  Ran- 
dolph girls  at  their  tasks  of  mending  or 
embroidery,  and  to  beguile  the  sorrows  of  the 
babies  with  fairy  stories  and  kisses. 

One  of  the  family  traditions  tells  of  a scene 
at  breakfast  when  little  Ben,  finding  his  skill 
unequal  to  the  dissection  of  his  muffin,  called 
upon  Mrs.  Madison  who  sat  next  him  for  aid. 
She  had  begun  to-cut  the  muffin  when  Master 
Ben’s  voice  said  earnestly,  “ No,  no ; not  that 
way.”  “ How  then  ?”  asked  the  visitor,  amused 
at  his  seriousness.  “ Why,”  said  the  child, 
“ you  must  tear  him  open,  and  put  butter  inside, 
and  stick  holes  in  his  back,  and  then  pat  him 
and  squeeze  him  till  the  juice  runs  out.” 

Mrs.  Madison  laughed  heartily  and  complied. 
It  was  characteristic  of  her  to  be  as  sincerely 
bent  upon  pleasing  this  baby  boy  as  though  he 
had  been  a foreign  minister  or  a Supreme  Court 
judge. 

After  her  recovery,  Mrs.  Madison  returned 
to  Washington  for  the  winter  of  1804-5. 
She  came  no  longer  a novice,  but  a woman  of 
the  world  and  an  acknowledged  leader  of  soci- 
ety, sure  of  herself  and  her  position,  yet  with 
no  undue  assumption  or  exaggerated  sense 
of  importance.  Her  genial  nature  expanded 
in  the  sunshine  of  prosperity,  and  at  this  time 
everything  favored  her.  The  administration 
107 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of  Jefferson  and  his  cabinet  was  no  longer  an 
experiment,  but  a pronounced  success.  The 
Louisiana  purchase  had  enormously  increased 
the  prestige  and  political  importance  of  the 
United  States,  and  consequently  the  dignity 
of  its  chief  officers  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 
The  people  had  spoken  their  approval  in  the 
November  elections,  which  were  so  overwhelm- 
ingly Republican  that  Jefferson  wrote  to  a 
friend  that  it  looked  as  though  the  two  parties 
were  likely  to  be  merged  in  one,  and  Madi- 
son stood  only  second  to  Jefferson  in  public 
estimation. 

To  see  her  husband  thus  universally  ap- 
proved, esteemed,  and  honored,  was  to  this  loyal 
wife  the  fulfilment  of  her  highest  ambition, 
and  she  bent  all  her  efforts  to  strengthening 
the  popularity  which  he  had  achieved.  Her 
social  life  was  guided  by  the  principle  which 
Jefferson  had  laid  down  in  his  inaugural,  for 
the  conduct  of  affairs  between  the  American 
nation  and  foreign  powers,  “ Honest  friendship 
with  all,  entangling  alliances  with  none.”  To 
her  sister  alone  she  indulged  in  confidences, 
and  even  then  but  sparingly. 

The  fourth  of  March  came  and  passed. 
Thomas  Jefferson  a second  time  accepted  the 
responsibility  of  acting  as  pilot  of  the  Ship  of 
State,  and  keeping  her,  as  he  himself  had  said, 
108 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


11  on  the  Republican  tack.”  The  outlook  was 
bright,  and  few  saw  the  rocks  and  shoals  ahead. 
In  all  this  political  hopefulness  Mrs.  Madison 
was  an  ardent  sharer.  The  year  which  brought 
her  so  much  happiness,  however,  brought  her 
also  a season  of  physical  suffering,  and  of 
separation  from  her  husband  which  was  a 
still  greater  trial.  A neglected  injury  to  her 
knee  threatened  to  develop  into  permanent 
lameness,  and  after  several  weeks  of  ineffec- 
tual treatment  by  Washington  physicians,  she 
was  prevailed  upon  by  her  husband  to  go  to 
Philadelphia  and  put  herself  under  the  care  of 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Philip  Syng  Physick. 

This  gentleman,  whose  name  and  profession 
corresponded  so  curiously,  had  won  a national 
reputation,  and  was  known  as  “ The  Father  of 
American  Surgery.”  His  portrait,  done  by  Rem- 
brandt Peale,  shows  a clean  shaven  face  with 
keen  eyes  and  a handsome,  rather  aristocratic 
profile.  His  treatment  of  Mrs.  Madison  was 
so  successful  that  at  the  end  of  July,  1805,  we 
find  her,  who  till  now  has  been  very  despondent 
over  her  lameness,  writing  more  hopefully  to 
her  sister,  describing  herself  as  comfortably 
lodged  and  feeling  much  improved. 

Dr.  Physick  put  the  knee  in  splints  and  ex- 
pressed himself  as  confident  of  being  able  to 
effect  a cure,  but  declared  that  it  would  be  a 
109 


DOLLY  MADISON 


matter  of  time,  requiring  fortitude  and  patience 
on  the  part  of  the  sufferer.  Mrs.  Madison  bore 
this,  like  all  her  other  troubles,  bravely,  and 
beguiled  the  tedious  hours  with  the  renewal 
of  her  old-time  friendships  and  a constant  cor- 
respondence with  her  husband,  in  which  she 
reveals  all  that  she  is  doing,  saying,  thinking 
and  feeling.  “ I have  had,”  she  writes  in  one 
of  these  letters,  “ a lecture  from  S.  L.  on  seeing 
too  much  company,  and  it  brought  to  my  mind 
the  time  when  our  Society  used  to  control  me 
entirely,  and  debar  me  from  so  many  advantages 
and  pleasures.  Even  now,  I feel  my  ancient 
terror  revive  in  a great  degree.” 

The  gay  Washington  dame  was  by  many  de- 
grees removed  from  the  young  Quakeress  who 
had  moved  demurely  with  downcast  eyes  along 
these  monotonous  streets  nearly  twenty  years 
before,  yet  it  is  evident  that  the  old  surround- 
ings brought  up  once  more  the  old  associations, 
and  the  terror  of  being  disciplined  by  the 
Meeting,  of  which  she  speaks  jestingly,  was  not 
without  a shadow  of  reality. 

But  there  were  many  associations  of  her 
girlish  days  to  which  her  heart  clung  fondly, 
and  never  wavered  in  its  loyalty  amid  all  the 
excitements  of  new  surroundings.  Her  old 
friends  continued  to  be  dear,  and  none  the  less 
because  they  were  often  in  humble  circum- 
110 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


stances.  During  her  Washington  life  she  fre- 
quently made  visits  to  Philadelphia,  and  Mr. 
Edward  Coles,  her  husband's  private  secretary, 
afterward  Governor  of  Illinois,  escorted  her 
about  the  town.  On  one  occasion  Mr.  Coles 
told  a friend  whom  he  chanced  to  meet  that  he 
had  taken  Mrs.  Madison  to  visit  an  old  lady 
who  kept  a little  shop.  The  shop-keeper  and 
her  visitor  had  adjourned  for  a cup  of  tea  and 
a cosey  chat  to  a room  over  the  shop,  where  he 
had  left  them  talking  so  fast  that  he  could  not 
get  in  a word. 

A suggestion  of  the  influence  of  old  asso- 
ciations  is  to  be  found  in  the  use  of  “ thee  and 
thou  ” in  the  letters  which  Mrs.  Madison  sends 
from  her  arm-chair  at  Philadelphia  in  1805, 
to  her  husband  on  his  return  to  Washing- 
ton. There  is  not  a word  or  a line  in  these 
letters  which  does  not  do  her  credit,  and  they 
are  indeed  a window  into  her  heart  showing 
clearly  its  tenderness,  its  forgetfulness  of  self 
and  selfish  suffering,  its  thoughtfulness  for 
others,  especially  for  him  to  whom  she  writes, 
and  who  is  constantly  in  her  thoughts  waking 
or  sleeping.  In  her  dreams  she  sees  him  ill, 
and  prays  for  an  early  letter  to  chase  away  the 
black  vision.  When  the  letter  fails  to  arrive, 
she  is  so  shaken  as  to  be  unable  to  write.  On 
the  night  of  his  journey  from  Philadelphia  to 
ill 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Washington,  when  the  worst  perils  which  conld 
have  menaced  him  were  the  jolting  of  the 
public  coach  or  the  tossing  of  the  packet,  she 
finds  herself  unable  to  sleep,  and  Avhen  the 
watchman  on  his  rounds  announces  a cloudy 
morning,  her  apprehensions  of  accident  and 
cold  become  so  great  as  to  require  the  admin- 
istering of  an  opiate  by  her  faithful  friend, 
Betsey  Pemberton. 

All  this  may  perhaps  raise  a smile,  but  it  is 
a kindly  smile,  as  at  the  simplicity  of  a child, 
and  we  share  her  pleasure  and  relief  when  the 
next  week  brings  her  news  of  her  beloved’s 
safe  arrival  at  Washington.  “I  have  this  mo- 
ment,” she  writes  on  the  thirtieth  of  October, 
“ perused  with  delight  thy  letter,  my  darling 
husband,  with  its  enclosures.  To  find  that  you 
love  me,  have  my  child  safe,  and  that  my 
mother  is  well,  seems  to  comprise  all  my 
happiness.” 

In  a few  weeks  Dr.  Physick  pronounced  the 
knee  far  enough  on  the  way  to  recovery  to  per- 
mit Mrs.  Madison  to  rejoin  her  husband  at  the 
capital,  and  her  joy  was  intensified  by  the  pros- 
pect of  again  seeing  her  friend  Mrs.  Randolph, 
whose  second  visit  to  the  White  House  was 
paid  in  the  winter  of  1805-6.  On  this  occa- 
sion Mrs.  Randolph  brought  with  her  her 
whole  family  consisting  of  five  daughters  and 
112 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


one  son,  and  the  circle  was  increased  by  the 
birth  in  Washington  of  a second  son,  the  first 
child  bom  under  the  roof  of  the  White  House. 
This  boy  was  named  James  Madison,  and  of 
course  was  very  dear  to  James  Madison’s  wife, 
who  was  always  a welcome  visitor  in  the  Jeffer- 
son-Randolph  nursery.  Virginia  Randolph, 
who  became  Mrs.  Trist,  wrote  in  after  years, 
“ Mrs.  Madison  was  an  intimate  and  much 
valued  friend  of  my  mother’s,  and  her  amiable, 
playful  manners  with  children  attracted  my 
sisters  and  myself  and  made  her  a great  favorite 
with  us.” 

Anne  Randolph,  another  sister,  was  very 
beautiful,  with  classic  head,  auburn  hair,  and 
delicate  complexion.  On  one  occasion  she  went 
to  a ball  in  company  with  a young  friend  at 
whose  mother’s  house  she  dined  and  dressed  for 
the  company.  Mrs.  Randolph  went  to  the  same 
ball  with  Mrs.  Cutts,  the  sister  of  Mrs.  Madison. 
Seeing  Anne  enter  the  room,  Mrs.  Randolph 
fixed  her  near-sighted  eyes  upon  her,  and  then 
turning  to  Mrs.  Cutts  asked,  “ Who  is  that 
beautiful  girl  ? ” Mrs.  Cutts  answered  in  great 
amusement,  “ Why,  woman,  are  you  so  un- 
natural a mother  as  not  to  recognize  your  own 
daughter  ? ” 

The  Washington  society  over  which  Mrs. 
Randolph  found  Mrs.  Madison  most  acceptably 
s 113 


DOLLY  MADISON 


presiding,  was  full  of  strange  contrasts.  Sir 
Augustus  Foster,  who  was  the  English  Secretary 
of  Legation,  from  1804  to  1806,  has  left  a 
sprightly  description  of  the  town  and  its  gay 
life.  “ Most  of  the  members  of  Congress,”  lie 
says,  “ keep  to  their  lodgings  ; but  still  there 
are  a sufficient  number  of  them  who  are  soci- 
able, or  whose  families  come  to  the  city  for  a 
season,  and  there  is  no  want  of  handsome  ladies 
for  the  balls,  especially  at  Georgetown  ; indeed, 
I never  saw  prettier  girls  anywhere.  As  there 
are  but  few  of  them,  however,  in  proportion  to 
the  great  number  of  men  who  frequent  the 
places  of  amusement  in  the  federal  city,  it  is 
one  of  the  most  marrying  places  on  the  whole 
continent.” 

Complimentary  as  the  diplomat  shows  him- 
self to  the  outward  appearance  of  American 
ladies,  he  finds  their  education  defective  and 
in  consequence  their  conversation  apt  to  flag. 
“ Dancing  and  music,”  he  writes,  “ served  to  eke 
out  the  time,  but  one  got  tired  of  hearing  the 
same  song  everywhere,  even  when  it  was,  — 

‘ Just  like  love  is  yonder  rose.’ 

No  matter  how  this  was  sung,  the  words  alone 
were  the  man-traps ; the  belle  of  the  evening 
was  declared  to  be  just  like  both,  and  the 
people  looked  around  as  if  the  listener  was 
114 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


expected  to  become  on  the  instant  very  tender 
and  to  propose.” 

The  chief  entertainment  among  the  men  he 
declares  to  have  been  card-playing  and  gam- 
bling, a well-nigh  universal  habit,  especially 
among  the  Southerners.  Much  however  as  he 
grumbles  at  the  discomforts  and  provincialisms 
of  Washington,  he  concludes  : “ In  spite  of  its 
inconveniences  and  desolate  aspect,  it  was,  I 
think,  the  most  agreeable  town  to  reside  in  for 
any  length  of  time.” 

It  is  evident  that  the  society  of  the  new 
capital  must  have  reflected  the  crudeness  of 
the  material  conditions  which  environed  it. 
The  social  life  in  those  early  days  of  the 
capital  was  essentially  a village  life,  with  all 
the  petty  gossip  and  pettier  jealousies  inevita- 
ble in  a community  whose  whole  population 
numbered  only  a few  thousand ; but  it  was  re- 
deemed from  the  deadening  self-complacency 
of  village  life  which,  knowing  no  standard  but 
its  own,  counts  every  outsider  a barbarian  and 
thanks  Heaven  for  its  own  limitations.  The 
men  and  women  who  made  up  this  society 
were,  many  of  them,  world-citizens,  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  best  that  Europe  had  to 
offer,  yet  realizing  that  the  air  here  was  electric 
with  a spirit  not  to  be  found  elsewhere,  and  in 
its  inspiration  fully  compensating  them  for 
115 


DOLLY  MADISON 


having  their  lot  cast  as  pioneers  in  this  clearing 
in  the  western  wilderness.  They  were  actors 
who  felt  that  they  were  playing  great  parts  on 
a rude  stage,  and  could  afford  to  smile  at  the 
bare  boards  and  improvised  scenery. 

An  air  of  cosmopolitanism,  too,  was  added 
by  the  foreign  element.  Albert  Gallatin,  the 
Swiss,  had  come  to  devote  his  great  talents  to 
the  service  of  his  adopted  country,  and  the 
subtle  d’Yrujo,  the  treacherous  Be  Paistre  and 
the  insular  Merry  bowed  and  smiled,  offered 
snuff-boxes  and  strove  to  overreach  one  an- 
other as  gracefully  as  though  this  provincial 
capital  had  been  the  oldest  court  in  Europe. 

In  and  out  among  them  all,  cold,  treacher- 
ous and  fascinating,  moved  the  figure  of  Aaron 
Burr.  For  a time  the  success  of  his  plots  ap- 
peared as  easy  as  the  descent  to  Avernus,  but, 
of  a sudden,  the  foreign  governments  with 
which  he  was  tampering  spoke  out  and  declined 
the  offered  partnership.  The  King  of  Spain 
sent  peremptory  orders  to  the  Marquis  d’Yrujo, 
warning  him  that  Spain  would  give  no  aid  to 
Burr’s  plotting,  and  so  the  arch-schemer  and 
adventurer  turned  his  back  on  Washington 
and  sought  to  start  the  ball  of  revolution  in 
the  West.  His  talents  peculiarly  fitted  him 
for  the  part  he  was  resolved  to  play,  and  he 
employed  all  the  resources  of  his  tact  and  bril- 
116 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


liancy,  in  furthering  his  schemes  and  drawing 
in  fresh  recruits  to  his  cause  at  every  stop,  and 
involving  the  unfortunate  Blennerhassets  inex- 
tricably in  the  web  of  treason. 

In  a few  more  months  the  secret  was  out, 
the  plots,  so  subtly  and  cautiously  woven,  were 
brushed  away,  as  it  were,  in  a moment,  and 
Aaron  Burr  was  a prisoner  on  trial  for  treason. 
The  trial  at  Richmond  was  the  event  of  the 
year  1807.  John  Marshall  presided,  and  the 
greatest  lawyers  of  the  country  battled  over 
the  question,  of  “ guilty,  or  not  guilty  of 
treason  against  the  United  States.”  Randolph 
of  Roanoke  was  foreman  of  the  jury,  and 
throughout  all  those  weeks,  the  benches  of  the 
Richmond  court-house  were  crowded  with  eager 
listeners  from  every  part  of  the  broad  land. 
The  nation  outside  held  its  breath,  awaiting 
the  verdict.  Jelferson  and  Madison  had  rea- 
son to  feel  themselves  almost  as  much  on  trial 
before  the  public  as  the  criminal  himself ; 
but  there  remains  no  word  spoken  or  written 
by  Mrs.  Madison  to  indicate  that  she  realized 
the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

There  was  however  one  political  question 
which  had  power  to  move  Mrs.  Madison  and 
this  was  now  in  full  tide  of  agitation.  Who 
should  be  the  next  Republican  candidate  for 
the  presidency  ? The  two  foremost  rivals  were 
117 


DOLLY  MADISON 


James  Madison  and  James  Monroe.  Jefferson, 
whose  word  was  law  to  the  party,  declared  that 
he  could  not  as  between  two  old  and  dear 
friends  express  a preference,  but  those  who 
knew  him  best  did  not  doubt  that  his  choice 
lay  with  Madison. 

There  was,  however,  a strong  anti-Madison 
party  including  many  men  of  influence,  such  as 
Smith  of  Maryland,  Clay  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  George  Clinton,  Jr.  of  New  York.  Seven- 
teen of  those  in  opposition  to  Madison,  with 
John  Randolph  at  their  head,  drew  up  a formal 
protest  which  appeared  in  March,  1808.  In 
this  the  objectors  said  : — 

“We  are,  perhaps,  on  the  eve  of  a war  with 
one  of  the  greatest  powers  of  Europe.  In  such  a 
crisis,  if  unanimity  in  the  choice  of  a president  is 
necessary,  that  choice  should  be  directed  to  a man 
eminently  calculated  by  his  tried  energy  and  tal- 
ents to  conduct  the  nation  with  firmness  and  wis- 
dom through  the  perils  which  surround  it;  a man 
who  had  not,  in  the  hour  of  terror  and  persecution, 
deserted  his  post  and  sought  in  obscurity  and  re- 
tirement a shelter  from  the  political  tempest;  to  a 
man  not  suspected  of  undue  partiality  or  enmity  to 
either  of  the  belligerent  powers;  to  a man  who  had 
not  forfeited  his  claim  to  public  confidence  by  recom- 
mending a shameful  bargain  with  the  unprincipled 
speculators  of  the  Yazoo  companies, — a dishonor- 
able compact  with  fraud  and  corruption. 

118 


WIFE  OF  TEE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


“Is  James  Madison  suck  a man  ? We  ask  for 
energy,  and  we  are  told  of  liis  moderation ; we  ask 
for  talent,  and  the  reply  is  his  unassuming  merit; 
we  ask  what  were  his  services  in  the  cause  of  Pub- 
lic Liberty,  and  we  are  directed  to  the  pages  of  the 
‘ Federalist.’  ” 

This  last  thrust,  with  its  hint  of  Madison’s 
apostasy  from  the  cause  which  the  “ Federal- 
ist ” had  represented,  bears  the  unmistakable 
impress  of  John  Randolph,  whose  bitterness 
knew  no  bounds,  and  who  was  determined  to 
stop  at  nothing  to  prevent  the  nomination  of 
a man  whom  he  cordially  detested.  A letter 
written  by  him  two  years  earlier  from  Bizarre 
and  addressed  to  Monroe,  goes  to  even  greater 
length,  and  might  tempt  a cynic  to  smile  at 
finding  this  vehement  exponent  of  southern 
chivalry  ready  to  invade  the  domestic  circle  and 
strike  at  a political  opponent  through  an  attack 
on  his  wife. 

After  many  denunciations  of  the  already 
fore-shadowed  nomination  of  Madison  he 
writes : — 


“ They  [the  old  Republicans]  are  moreover  deter- 
mined not  to  have  a Yazoo  President,  if  they  can 
avoid  it,  nor  one  who  has  mixed  in  the  intrigues 
of  the  last  three  or  four  years  at  Washington. 
There  is  another  consideration,  which  I know  not 
119 


DOLLY  MADISON 


how  to  touch.  You,  my  dear  sir,  cannot  he  igno- 
rant, although  of  all  mankind  you  perhaps  have  the 
least  cause  to  know  it,  how  deeply  the  respecta- 
bility of  any  character  may  be  impaired  by  an 
unfortunate  matrimonial  connection.  lean  pursue 
this  subject  no  further.  It  is  at  once  too  delicate 
and  too  mortifying.  Before  the  decision  is  ulti- 
mately made,  I hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  com- 
municating with  you  in  person.” 

Neither  public  opposition  nor  private  malev- 
olence however  could  prevail  against  Madison, 
and  unless  Monroe  was  one  of  those  who 
“ demen  gladly  to  the  badder  end,”  these  dark 
insinuations  could  only  have  reacted  upon  the 
writer.  In  spite  of  Randolph’s  invective  and 
innuendo;  in  spite  of  the  most  strenuous  ef- 
forts of  the  Federalists  and  the  desertion  of 
many  Republicans,  when  the  electoral  votes  were 
counted  in  the  presence  of  Congress  on  a Feb- 
ruary morning  in  1809,  James  Madison  was 
declared  elected  President  of  the  United  States 
with  George  Clinton  as  Vice-President. 

The  year  1807  brought  a great  grief  to  Mrs. 
Madison  in  the  death  of  her  mother,  who  was 
staying  at  the  time  with  her  daughter  Mary, 
Mrs.  Jackson.  The  two  letters  which  fol- 
low, written  by  Mrs.  Jackson’s  husband  to 
Madison,  give  an  account  of  her  mother’s  last 
hours : — 


120 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


Clarksburg,  Sunday  Evs  18th  October,  1807. 

My  dear  Friend,  — It  is  with  grief  unutter- 
able I communicate  to  you  the  painful  intelligence 
that  ere  you  receive  this  our  beloved  & Much 
respected  friend  Mr?  Payne  wrill  be  no  more.  She  is 
now  while  I write  this  dying  away  — her  attack 
has  been  sudden,  unexpected,  & severe  — on  Wed- 
nesday evening  she  had  made  her  little  round 
to  a few  of  our  neighbors  & returned  home  in 
unusually  good  health  & spirits.  Mr?  Jackson 
appeared  to  be  recovering,  & that  with  the  pros- 
pect of  soon  joining  you  all  seemed  to  increase 
them  — At  the  usual  hour  she  went  to  Bed  and 
about  three  o’clock  A.  M.  I was  informed  by  a 
servant  that  she  was  extremely  ill.  I hastened  to 
her  chamber  & enquired  what  was  the  Matter, 
she  answered  with  a voice  broken  & much  al- 
tered that  a violent  stroke  of  the  dead  Palsy  had 
deprived  her  entirely  of  the  use  of  her  left  side.  It 
extends  to  her  head  & neck.  In  a few  Minutes 
the  Doctor  arrived,  she  repeated  to  him  the  extent 
of  the  attack  & that  it  would  be  fatal  — I sup- 
ported her  for  a short  time  in  my  arms,  & found 
that  her  neck  was  stiffened  by  the  attack,  & that 
she  had  no  use  of  any  part  of  her  body — In  the 
space  of  an  hour  she  became  speechless  & fell  into 
a state  of  insensibility  which  has  continued  with- 
out intermission  ever  since — she  appears  to  be 
without  pain  & has  weakened  gradually  — The 
application  of  bleeding,  blisters,  rubbing,  &c.  have 
121 


DOLLY  MADISON 


not  produced  the  smallest  effect  — The  effect  of 
this  attack  upon  Mr;5  Jackson  has  been  & still  is 
very  alarming  — Heaven  only  knows  what  will  be 
the  result. 

Farewell  — Yours  truly, 

J.  G.  Jackson. 

Clarksburg,  October  25*  1807. 

Mv  dear  Sir,  — My  letter  by  the  last  Post  in- 
formed you  that  our  beloved  Friend,  Mr*  Payne, 
was  ill  beyond  the  reach  of  recovery  — Alas  ! my 
prediction  was  too  fatally  verified,  she  continued 
without  any  alteration  except  an  increased  debil- 
ity until  Wednesday  evening  last  when  she  ex- 
pired — The  shock  which  her  sickness  & death 
produced  upon  the  health  & spirits  of  my  poor  sick 
wife  has  been  alarming  in  the  extreme  — I have 
watched  over  her  incessantly  ever  since,  oftentimes 
with  the  expectation  that  the  hour  which  was  clos- 
ing on  us  would  survive  her  — & altho  I have  occa- 
sionally indulged  the  hope  that  in  a few  weeks  she 
would  be  well  enough  to  set  off  in  a close  light 
waggon  which  I have  procured  for  her  & that  a 
change  of  situation  would  aid  me  in  restoring  her 
to  health,  still  my  dear  Friend,  my  hand  trembles 
when  I write  you,  I fear  that  the  hope  is  illusive  — 
last  night  and  to  day  she  has  been  worse  than  for 
several  days  past,  her  fever  & Chills  have  been 
severe  in  the  extreme  & her  stomach  so  disordered 
as  to  baffle  all  the  medical  skill  this  Country  can 
122 


WIFE  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 


afford  — But  I will  yet  hope  that  my  cup  of  misery 
is  almost  exhausted  & tlio’  shorn  indeed,  still  that 
God  will  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  Lamb  — 
Farewell,  my  dear  friend, 

J.  G.  Jackson. 


123 


VII 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE. 

The  fourth  of  March,  in  the  year  1809,  wit- 
nessed the  inauguration  of  James  Madison  as 
President  of  the  United  States.  The  day  found 
all  the  nation  in  a state  of  cheerfulness,  if  not 
of  enthusiasm.  The  Jeffersonians  were  glad 
because  Jefferson’s  most  intimate  friend  and 
disciple  was  to  succeed  him ; the  Federalists 
were  glad  because,  at  least,  the  “ Arch-Fiend  of 
Democracy  ” was  out  of  office  ; and  the  whole 
people  were  glad  at  the  promised  lifting  of  the 
hateful  embargo  which  was  paralyzing  com- 
merce and  pauperizing  merchants  and  sailors 
alike. 

One  class,  however,  resented  and  deplored 
the  continuance  of  the  power  of  the  Democrats, 
as  the  followers  of  Jefferson  were  now  coming 
to  be  called.  All  the  barbers  were  Federalists, 
owing,  it  was  said,  to  the  fact  that  those  leaders 
wore  powder  and  long  queues  which  required 
dressing  by  the  barbers,  while  the  Democrats 
wore  short  hair  or  small  queues  tied  carelessly 
124 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


with  a ribbon.  On  the  nomination  of  Madison, 
a barber  burst  out : “ The  country  is  doomed  ; 
what  presidents  we  might  have,  sir ! Just  look 
at  Dagget,  of  Connecticut,  or  Stockton,  of  New 
Jersey  ! What  queues  they  have  got,  sir ! — 
as  big  as  your  wrist  and  powdered  every  day, 
sir,  like  the  real  gentlemen  they  are.  Such 
men,  sir,  would  confer  dignity  upon  the  chief 
magistracy ; but  this  little  Jim  Madison,  with 
a queue  no  bigger  than  a pipe-stem ! Sir,  it  is 
enough  to  make  a man  forswear  his  country.” 
As  the  inauguration  ball  would  necessitate  an 
unusual  amount  of  hair-dressing,  however,  even 
the  barbers  were  in  good  humor  on  this  day, 
and  added  their  plaudits  to  those  of  the  crowds 
who  thronged  the  streets  of  the  capital. 

The  festivities  of  celebration  everywhere 
marked  the  public  joy.  Salutes  of  cannon  from 
Fort  Warburton  and  the  Navy  Yard  ushered  in 
the  dawn.  Troops  of  militia  gathered  early  at 
Georgetown  and  Alexandria,  and  marched  to 
Washington  to  escort  Mr.  Madison  to  the  Capi- 
tol. Ten  thousand  people  gathered  along  the 
way  to  see  the  procession,  which  everywhere 
was  greeted  with  great  hurrahing  and  throwing 
up  of  hats  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs. 

Arrived  at  the  Capitol,  Madison  descended 
from  his  carriage  and  entered  the  Hall  of 
Representatives,  where,  until  the  inaugura- 
125 


DOLLY  MADISON 


tion  of  Monroe,  the  newly  elected  president 
took  the  oath  of  office.  Madison  was  attended 
by  the  Attorney-General  and  other  cabinet 
officers.  One  who  saw  him  describes  him  as 
looking  unusually  well,  the  excitement  of  the 
occasion  lending  color  to  his  pale  student 
face,  and  dignity  to  his  small,  slender  figure. 
He  was  dressed  in  a suit  of  clothes  wholly  of 
American  manufacture,  made  of  the  wool  from 
merino  sheep  bred  and  reared  in  this  country. 
His  coat  was  from  the  manufactory  of  Colonel 
Humphreys,  and  his  waistcoat  and  small-clothes 
from  that  of  Chancellor  Livingston,  both  being 
gifts  offered  in  token  of  respect  by  those  gentle- 
men. At  twelve  o’clock,  with  marked  dignity 
and  composure  of  manner,  he  took  the  oath  of 
office,  administered  by  Chief-Justice  Marshall 
and,  amid  deafening  cheers,  as  President  of  the 
United  States  began  his  inaugural  address. 

When  the  inaugural  ceremonies  were  ended, 
Madison  reviewed  the  infantry  drawn  up  to 
receive  him,  and  then,  escorted  by  cavalry,  re- 
turned to  his  home,  where  Mrs.  Madison’s  hos- 
pitality had  prepared  an  abundance  of  good 
cheer  to  be  set  before  the  crowds  who  called  to 
pay  their  respects  to  the  new  chief  magistrate. 
The  festivities  of  the  day  ended  with  a brilliant 
inauguration  ball,  held  at  Long’s  Hotel.  In 
an  old  number  of  a journal  of  Portland,  Maine, 
126 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


I find  a glowing  description  of  the  glories 
of  this  ball,  written  by  a correspondent  who 
took  part  in  its  gayeties  and  sent  a detailed 
account  to  be  read  by  his  fellow-townsmen  in 
that  then  remote  corner  of  the  country.  “ Up- 
wards of  four  hundred  persons,”  he  says, 
“ graced  the  scene,  which  was  not  a little  en- 
livened by  the  handsome  display  of  female  fash- 
ion and  beauty.”  The  toilets,  according  to  the 
standards  of  the  day,  were  sumptuous  ; and, 
so  far  had  Washington  progressed  toward  the 
dignity  of  a metropolis,  that  its  belles  no  longer 
found  it  necessary  to  go  to  Philadelphia  for 
their  finery. 

In  the  advertising  columns  of  the  daily 
papers  at  this  time  Mrs.  Sweeney  informs  the 
ladies  of  Washington  that  she  has  again 
commenced'  the  “ Millinery  & Mantua  Making 
business,”  and  Mrs.  Walker  “acquaints  the 
Ladies  of  the  City  of  Washington  and  its 
vicinity,  that  on  Monday  morning,  in  the  Front 
Room  of  Mr.  Peltz’s  house  near  the  Centre 
Market,  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  she  opened  and 
offers  for  sale  a Fresh  and  Elegant  assortment 
of  Fashionable  silk  velvets,  Turbans,  Pelices, 
Great-Coats,  &c.” 

The  beautiful  women  who  gathered  at  Long’s 
Hotel  to  welcome  the  advent  of  the  new  ad- 
ministration with  music  and  dancing,  were 
127 


DOLLY  MADISON 


arrayed  in  all  the  gorgeousness  of  this  newly 
imported  “ fresh  and  elegant  assortment,” 
but  none  were  so  splendid  as  the  wife  of  the 
President. 

Shade  of  John  Payne,  what  would  you  have 
said,  had  you  walked  in,  clad  in  your  sober 
suit  of  Quaker  gray,  and  seen  in  the  very 
centre  of  this  worldly  company  your  daughter 
Dorothy  attired  in  a robe  of  yellow  velvet,  her 
bare  neck  and  arms  hung  with  pearls,  and  her 
head  nodding  beneath  a Paris  turban  with  a 
bird-of-paradise  plume  ! Perchance  with  deeper 
insight  than  marked  your  earthly  vision,  you 
might  have  looked  beneath  all  these  frivolous 
trappings  and  found  your  daughter’s  heart 
still  as  loyal,  true  and  loving  as  when  it  beat 
beneath  the  lawn  kerchief  folded  above  the  gown 
of  ashen  gray,  and  so  have  been  satisfied. 

This  inauguration-ball  was  indeed  a brilliant 
assemblage,  with  the  gay  dresses  of  the  ladies 
and  the  no  less  gay  uniforms  of  the  different 
legations.  A correspondent  of  the  Baltimore 
“ Whig,”  in  describing  the  scene,  takes  occasion 
at  the  same  time  to  satisfy  an  old  grudge 
against  Robert  Goodloe  Harper,  who  shone  at 
Washington  in  the  double  capacity  of  politi- 
cian and  man  of  fashion.  “ Goody,”  says  the 
“ Whig  ” correspondent,  “ came  to  the  Inaugu- 
ration Ball,  — I swear  it,  if  you  doubt  me! 

128 


IN  TEE  WHITE  HOUSE 


He  was  perfumed  like  a Milliner  and  a huge 
knot  of  black  ribbon  nodded  on  each  shoe.  A 
wag  present  remarked  that  Goody  wore  Cock- 
ades in  his  shoes  to  mark  the  seat  of  his 
soldiership  ever  since  Wilkinson  invited  him 
to  the  field.  What  a world  it  is ! ” Such  were 
the  amenities  of  journalism  at  the  beginning 
of  the  century. 

No  one  among  the  distinguished  figures  who 
surrounded  the  President  and  Mrs.  Madison  was 
so  conspicuous  as  the  tall  form  of  Jefferson. 
Remembering,  perhaps,  his  own  feelings  at  the 
conduct  of  his  predecessor,  John  Adams,  in 
leaving  Washington  abruptly,  apparently  to 
avoid  witnessing  the  inauguration  of  the  new 
president,  Jefferson  seemed  determined  to  do 
all  in  his  power  to  lend  brilliancy  to  those 
opening  scenes  of  Madison’s  administration. 
Never  had  he  appeared  more  genial,  more 
ready-witted,  or  more  light-hearted  than  at 
Mrs.  Madison’s  first  reception.  Pull  of  jest, 
and  repartee,  he  shed  the  spirit  of  gayety  in  a 
shining  circle  about  him.  As  the  ladies 
pressed  near  him,  a friend  whispered  jestingly  : 
“ You  see  they  will  follow  you.”  “ That  is  as 
it  should  be,”  answered  Jefferson,  “ since  I am 
too  old  to  follow  them.  I remember,”  he 
added,  “ when  Dr.  Franklin’s  friends  were 
taking  leave  of  him  in  France,  the  ladies 
9 129 


DOLLY  MADISON 


almost  smothered  him  with  embraces.  On  his 
introducing  me  to  them  as  his  successor,  I 
told  them  that  among  the  rest  of  his  privi- 
leges, I wished  he  would  transfer  this  one  to  me. 
But  he  answered  : ‘ No,  no  ; you  are  too  young 
a man.’  ” When  the  ex-President  had  finished, 
a young  lady  who  stood  near  him  suggested 
that  that  invidious  bar  no  longer  existed. 
What  response  he  made  is  not  recorded  ; but 
when  some  one  commented  on  the  contrast 
which  his  gayety  presented  to  the  exhaustion 
and  care-worn  aspect  of  the  newly  installed 
president,  Jefferson  responded  : “ Can  you  won- 
der at  it  ? My  shoulders  have  just  been  freed 
from  a heavy  burden  ; his  just  laden  with  it.” 

Jefferson  did  indeed  seem  to  feel  all  the 
exhilaration  of  a released  school-boy  at  his 
escape  from  the  cares  of  office  which  had 
pressed  with  increasing  weight  throughout  the 
past  eight  years.  As  soon  as  the  inaugural 
festivities  were  ended  he  made  ready  for  de- 
parture to  Monticello.  His  household  goods 
he  sent  ahead  in  a wagon  train  drawn  by  six 
mules  and  four  horses,  the  loads  surmounted 
by  eleven  black  servants,  forming  as  may  be 
imagined  a striking  procession.  Desirous,  it 
may  be,  of  avoiding  the  attention  such  a cortege 
was  sure  to  attract,  the  master  drove  off  from 
Washington  in  a phaeton  attended  by  a single 
130 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


servant,  and  soon  exchanged  the  carriage  for 
the  saddle. 

A few  days  later  he  writes  to  the  Madisons  : 
“ I had  a very  fatiguing  journey,  having  found 
the  roads  exceedingly  bad.  The  last  three 
days  I found  it  better  to  be  on  horseback,  and 
travelled  eight  hours  in  as  disagreeable  a snow- 
storm as  I ever  saw.”  His  Virginia  estate  was 
by  no  means  at  its  loveliest  in  that  raw,  bleak 
March  weather,  and  he  reported  his  disappoint- 
ment at  finding  no  oats  or  tobacco  sown  and 
little  done  in  the  garden,  no  vegetation  visible 
but  the  red-maple,  weeping-willow,  and  lilac. 

The  Federalist  papers,  which  had  pelted  him 
with  epithets  and  lampoons,  fired  parting  shots 
after  his  retreating  form  as  it  disappeared  from 
public  life.  One  of  these  poetic  compositions 
was  a parody,  and  ran  thus  : — 

“ O ! whither,  I pray  is  our  Highland  Daddy  bound? 

O ! whither,  I pray,  is  our  Highland  Daddy  hound? 

He ’s  bound  to  his  plantation  with  fifty  thousand  pound, 

With  a gun-boat  embargoed  to  plough  his  native  ground. 

Oh  ! what  will  he  do  with  his  philosophic  fogs? 

Oh  ! what  will  he  do  with  his  philosophic  fogs? 

He  ’ll  discover  more  salt-mountains  — He  ’ll  breed  more 
horned  frogs. 

He  ’ll  improve  his  whirling  chair  and  call  wood-chucks  prairie- 
dogs.” 

With  the  departure  of  Jefferson  the  burden 
of  office  fell  for  the  first  time  wholly  upon  Madi- 
131 


DOLLY  MADISON 


son’s  shoulders,  and  it  is  little  -wonder  that  he 
was  oppressed  by  the  difficulty  of  worthily  filling 
the  position  hallowed  and  dignified  by  the 
memories  of  Washington,  Adams,  and  Jeffer- 
son. It  was  no  less  serious  a matter  for  Dolly 
Madison  to  feel  devolving  upon  herself  the 
responsibility  of  living  up  to  the  standards  set 
by  Martha  Washington  and  Abigail  Adams. 

One  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  predecessors  was  fully 
impressed  by  the  solemnity  of  the  situation. 
With  somewhat  irritating  self-complacency 
Mrs.  Adams  writes  to  her  daughter  in  June  of 
this  year  : “ With  respect  to  Mrs.  Madison’s 

influence  it  ought  to  be  [the  italics  are  my  own] 
such  as  Solomon  describes  his  virtuous  woman’s 
to  be,  — one  who  should  do  him  good  and  not 
evil  all  the  days  of  her  life.  So  that  the  heart 
of  her  husband  may  safely  trust  in  her.  I 
believe  I may  say  with  safety  that  her  predeces- 
sors left  her  no  evil  example.”  The  last  sen- 
tence recalls  the  words  of  the  Parisian  lady 
who  naively  remarked  to  Dr.  Franklin  : “ Je 

ne  trouve  que  moi  qui  a toujours  raison .” 

Perhaps  when  Mrs.  Adams  found  her  son 
appointed  Minister  to  St.  Petersburg  she  took 
a more  genial  view  of  Dolly  Madison’s  influence, 
and  would  have  been  willing  to  substitute  “ will 
be  ” for  that  chilly  and  cautious  “ ought  to  be.” 

It  must  be  admitted  that  under  Mrs.  Madi- 
132 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


son’s  influence,  life  at  tlie  White  House  lost 
something  of  its  simplicity.  Dress  grew  gayer, 
entertainments  more  elaborate,  and  when  the 
President’s  wife  took  the  air  it  was  in  a chariot 
drawn  by  four  horses,  — a chariot  built  by 
Fielding  of  Philadelphia  at  a cost  of  fifteen 
hundred  dollars.  The  holding  of  levees  and 
weekly  dinner-parties  at  the  White  House,  with 
all  the  inevitable  household  cares,  proved  a 
serious  strain  on  Mrs.  Madison’s  health  and 
strength,  but  after  all,  as  Monroe  once  observed 
when  asked  if  he  were  not  completely  worn 
out  by  the  weary  hours  of  standing  and  hand- 
shaking at  his  receptions,  “ a little  flattery  will 
support  one  through  a great  deal  of  fatigue.” 

In  the  first  year  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  occupancy 
of  the  White  House,  Congress  appropriated  the 
modest  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars  for  the 
further  furnishing  and  decoration  of  the  man- 
sion. How  the  money  was  expended  is  shown 
by  the  accounts  of  Latrobe,  the  superintendent 
of  public  buildings  : — 

Account  of  B.  Henry  Latrobe,  with  the  Furni- 
ture of  the  Presidents  house,  May  29th, 
1809. 

jy- 

To  this  Sum  paid  to  him  on  account 

hy  a Warrant  on  the  Treasury  $5,000, — • 

133  ' 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Per  Contra  Cr 

By  this  Sum  p‘!  Louis  Deblois  for  two 

Mirrors  & expenses  1.060. — 

By  d? d° to  settle  small 

acct? — 550. — 

Mem:  This  sum  has  been  nearly  ex- 
pended for  articles  of  household  use 
& repairs,  and  is  to  be  accounted  for 
by  Mi  Deblois. 

By  d° Louis  Mark  of  New  York 


for  Table  Linnen,  & Looking  Glass, 

on  acc*  1.225. — 

By  d° Paul  S.  Brown  for  China,  556.15 

By  d° Charles  Bird,  for  Knives, 

forks  bottle  stands,  Waiters,  And- 
irons, &5  220.90 

By  d° John  Cox,  for  sundries  840.70 

(remittance  to  Peter  Harvie  Ph*) 

By  d° Geo.  Blake  for  a Guitar  28.00 

By  d° Andrew  Hazleliurst  for  a 

Pianoforte  458.00 

By  Commission  @ 2 p Cent  100. — 


$5,038.75 

Latrobe  reports  a further  expenditure  of  one 
thousand  dollars  for  the  curtains,  chairs,  and 
sofas  of  the  drawing-room.  A very  magnificent 
apartment  this  state  drawing-room  of  Mrs.  Dolly 
Madison  was  considered  in  those  days.  It  was 
upholstered  in  yellow  satin  with  stiff  sofas  and 
134 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


high-backed  chairs.  Its  long  windows  were 
hung  with  damask  formed  into  valances  and 
festoons.  A rod  running  around  the  top  of  the 
room  held  another  fall  of  the  brocade,  and  the 
fire-board  beneath  the  mantel  repeated  the  same 
yellow  damask  arranged  in  the  fluted  pattern 
known  as  “ a rising  sun.”  No  wonder  all  this 
magnificence  taxed  Latrobe’s  allowance  from 
Congress.  Despite  the  yellow  satin  upholstery 
and  the  great  mirrors,  however,  the  White- 
House  was  still  but  scantily  furnished,  and  the 
wide,  bare  halls  echoed  drearily  to  every  passing 
footstep. 

The  city  without,  like  the  White  House 
within,  had  not  greatly  changed  in  its  material 
features  from  its  unfinished  state  in  the  days 
when  Mrs.  Adams  bewailed  its  primitive  con- 
dition. The  foreigner  still  wrote  of  it  as  a 
spoiled  wilderness,  resembling  nothing  so  much 
as  Hampton  Heath,  and  told  tales  of  having 
started  a covey  of  partridges  within  a hundred 
yards  of  the  Capitol.  The  pavements  of  side- 
walks still  ended  abruptly  on  the  edge  of 
sloughs  through  which  the  pedestrian  must 
flounder  above  his  shoe-tops,  and  the  Abbe 
Correa’s  jesting  title,  given  some  years  later,  of 
“ The  City  of  Magnificent  Distances,”  happily 
set  forth  the  only  claim  to  magnificence  which 
the  capital  possessed. 


135 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Yet  the  society  was  steadily  advancing  in 
numbers,  importance,  and  air  of  cosmopoli- 
tanism. Mrs.  Madison  was  surrounded  in 
these  early  days  of  her  husband’s  administra- 
tion by  a group  of  men  and  women  whose  fame 
has  survived  for  well-nigh  a century,  and  the 
universal  and  sincere  regard  with  which  they 
regarded  her  would  in  itself  constitute  a strong 
claim  for  her  own  distinction.  Nearest  to  her 
naturally  stood  Madison’s  official  family,  George 
Clinton  of  New  York,  Eustis  of  Massachusetts, 
Gallatin  the  Swiss,  with  his  American  wife, 
Paul  Hamilton,  and  Colonel  Monroe,  the  Sec- 
retary of  State. 

James  Monroe,  the  man  who  stood  upon  the 
stepping-stone  to  the  presidency,  was  of  “ the 
Virginia  dynasty ; ” of  tall  figure,  dressed  in 
the  old  style,  with  small-clothes,  silk  hose, 
knee-buckles  and  pumps.  His  brow  was  some- 
what retreating  and  unimpressive,  but  his  eye  so 
clear  and  straightforward  that  it  justified  Jeffer- 
son’s remark  that  Monroe  was  so  honest  that  if 
you  turned  his  soul  inside  out  there  would  not 
be  a spot  on  it.  Inseparable  from  the  Secre- 
tary of  State  was  his  wife,  formerly  a Miss 
Kortwright,  famous  as  a New  York  beauty  in 
the  latter  days  of  the  Revolution,  and  known 
afterward  in  Paris  as  “ la  belle  Americaine .” 

The  South  furnished  its  full  share  of  con- 
136 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


spicuous  figures  to  Washington  society.  John 
Marshall  towered  above  all.  John  Randolph 
was  there  with  his  high-pitched  voice,  his  clean- 
shaven, “ young-old  ” face  and  sarcastic  mouth. 
Henry  Clay,  from  Mrs.  Madison’s  own  Hanover 
County,  once  “ The  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes,” 
now  high  in  the  councils  of  state,  retained  all 
his  old-time  simplicity.  His  face  was  peculiar 
and  striking,  with  sharp  eyes  twinkling  under 
overhanging  eyebrows,  with  long,  straight  hair 
and  deep  lines  drawn  about  the  lips  and  nos- 
trils. Calhoun,  too,  came  in  1811  to  take  part 
in  Congressional  aft’aii’s,  and  was  one  of  the 
most  noticeable  figures,  his  great  head  loaded 
down  with  a weight  of  shaggy,  ragged  locks. 
His  wife  was  among  the  intimate  friends  of 
Mrs.  Madison’s  circle,  as  was  also  the  brilliant 
Mrs.  Yan  Ness,  whose  entertainments  were 
among  the  leading  social  events  of  Washington 
in  those  days. 

The  father  of  Mrs.  Yan  Ness  was  David 
Burns,  who  had  owned  a tract  of  land  in  the 
heart  of  the  city  when  it  was  surveyed  for 
the  future  capital.  This  ground  is  described  in 
the  original  patent  of  1661  as  “ The  Widow’s 
Mite,  lyeing  on  the  east  side  of  the  Anacostin 
River,  on  the  north  side  of  a branch  or  inlett 
in  the  said  river  called  Tyber.” 

Shrewd  Davy  early  perceived  the  value  of  his 
137 


DOLLY  MADISON 


land,  and  was  very  stiff  in  refusing  to  part  with 
it.  Washington  strove  to  deal  with  him,  but 
the  old  Scotchman,  so  tradition  says,  answered 
testily  ; “ I suppose  you  think  people  here  are 
going  to  take  your  grist  for  pure  grain  ; but,” 
he  added  with  crushing  sarcasm,  “ what  would 
you  have  been  if  you  had  n’t  married  the  widow 
Custis  ? ” The  right  of  eminent  domain,  how- 
ever, forced  even  stubborn  David  Burns  to 
give  up  his  land,  but  not  till  he  had  obtained 
a price  which  made  his  daughter  one  of  the 
greatest  heiresses  of  the  country.  Her  hus- 
band, Mr.  John  P.  Van  Ness,  was  a prominent 
citizen  of  Washington,  and  their  house  a centre 
of  social  gayety.  Mrs.  Van  Ness  too  was  a 
leader  of  the  city  charities,  as  well  of  the  soci- 
ety, and  was  largely  instrumental  in  founding 
the  City  Orphan  Asylum,  in  which  Mrs.  Madi- 
son was  first  directress. 

To  this  asylum  Mrs.  Madison  contributed  not 
only  the  gifts  of  “ twenty  dollars  and  a cow,”  set 
down  to  her  credit  in  the  books  of  the  institu- 
tion, but  a sympathy  and  devotion  quite  beyond 
calculation,  and  an  amount  of  time  which 
could  only  have  been  taken  from  her  busy  life 
at  the  cost  of  much  real  self-sacrifice.  She 
took  upon  herself  the  heavy  work  of  cutting 
out  the  clothing  for  the  orphans.  Mrs.  Lee,  in 
after  years,  asked  her  how  she  could  submit  to 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


its  fatigues,  and  how  she  endured  the  great 
welts  raised  by  the  heavy  shears  upon  the 
white  hands  which  were  among  her  chief 
beauties.  “ Oh  ! ” exclaimed  Mrs.  Madison,  “ it 
was  delicious  work ; I never  enjoyed  anything 
as  much.” 

In  Mrs.  Madison’s  occupations,  charitable, 
dog..-  stic,  and  social,  she  was  ably  assisted  by 
he!  ( wo  sisters,  Lucy  and  Anna,  both  of  whom 
w I at  this  time  living  in  Washington,  — - Mrs. 
(V’s  settled  there  by  her  husband’s  public 
<r*fl3S,  and  Mrs.  Washington  (Lucy  Payne) 
Jj-^ing  made  her  home  with  Mrs.  Madison 

1 tfl 

r the  death  of  her  husband.  The  trio  of 
/ li’c 

, ers  attracted  much  attention  and  admira- 

I if 

I n.  Washington  Irving,  in  a letter  to  his 
I,'*  end  Brevoort,  written  from  the  capital,  and 
diued  the  thirteenth  of  January,  1811,  gives  an 
entertaining  description  of  his  first  meeting 
with  them,  and  of  his  first  experience  of 
Washington  society. 

“I  arrived  at  the  Inn  about  dusk,”  he  says, 
“and  understanding  that  Mrs.  Madison  was  to  have 
her  levee  or  drawing-room  that  very  evening,  I swore 
by  all  the  gods  I would  be  there.  But  how  ? was 
the  question.  I had  got  away  down  into  George- 
town, and  the  persons  to  whom  my  letters  of  intro- 
duction were  directed  lived  all  upon  Capitol  Hill 
about  three  miles  off,  while  the  President’s  house 
139 


DOLLY  MADISON 


was  exactly  half  way.  Here  was  a non-plus  enough 
to  startle  any  man  of  less  enterprising  spirit  ; 
but  I had  sworn  to  be  there,  and  I determined  to 
keep  my  oath,  and  like  Caleb  Quotem  ‘ have  a place 
at  the  Review.’  So  I mounted  with  a stout  heart 
to  my  room  ; resolved  to  put  on  my  pease-blossoms 
and  silk  stockings,  gird  up  my  loins  and  j. sally 
forth  on  my  expedition,  and  like  a vagabond  kn'glit- 
errant  trust  to  Providence  for  success  and  y hole 
bones.  1 

“ Just  as  I descended  from  my  attic  full  of'  his 
valorous  spirit  I was  met  by  my  landlord,  i ith 
whom  and  the  head  waiter,  by  the  bye,  I had  1 Id 
a private  cabinet  council  on  the  subject.  Bi  ly 
Rook  informed  me  that  there  was  a party  of  gen  e- 
men  just  going  from  the  house,  one  of  whom,  Vr. 
Pontaine  Maury  of  Hew  York,  had  offered  i 3 
services  to  introduce  me  to  ‘the  Sublime  Port!.’ 

I cut  one  of  my  best  opera  flourishes;  skipped  imro 
the  dressing-room,  popped  my  head  into  the  hanasl 
of  a sanguinary  Jacobinical  barber  who  carried', 
havoc  and  desolation  into  the  lower  regions  of  ml 
face;  mowed  down  all  the  beard  on  one  of  my 
cheeks  and  laid  the  other  in  blood  like  a conquered 
province ; and,  thus,  like  a second  Banquo,  wii  L 
‘ twenty  mortal  murthers  on  my  head;’  in  a fe ; 
minutes  I emerged  from  dirt  and  darkness  into  th| 
blazing  splendor  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  drawing! 
room. 

“ Here  I was  most  graciously  received  ; founo 
a crowded  collection  of  great  and  little  men,  o! 

140 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


ugly  old  women  and  beautiful  young  ones,  and  in 
ten  minutes  was  band  and  glove  with  balf  tbe 
people  in  tbe  assemblage. 

“Mrs.  Madison  is  a fine,  portly,  buxom  dame, 
who  has  a smile  and  a pleasant  word  for  every- 
body. Her  sisters,  Mrs.  Cutts  and  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton, are  like  tbe  two  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  ; 
but  as  to  Jemmy  Madison  — Ab!  poor  Jemmy! 
— be  is  but  a withered  little  apple-John.” 

A month  or  so  later  Irving  writes  to  his 
brother  that  he  does  not  indulge  any  very  san- 
guine hopes  of  securing  the  diplomatic  appoint- 
ment in  search  of  which  he  had  come  to 
Washington,  as  he  finds  that  the  matter  is 
generally  left  to  the  minister,  in  this  case  a 
stranger  to  him.  But  that  he  still  cherished 
some  hope  is  shown  by  a subsequent  para- 
graph : “ The  President  on  its  being  mentioned 
to  him,”  Irving  writes,  “ said  some  very  hand- 
some things  of  me,  and  I make  no  doubt  will 
express  a wish  in  my  favor  on  the  subject, 
more  especially  as  Mrs.  Madison  is  a sworn 
friend  of  mine,  and  indeed  all  the  ladies  of 
the  household  and  myself  are  great  cronies.” 
It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  Mrs.  Madison  thus 
befriending  the  young  aspirant  destined  to 
become  the  first  American  man-of-letters 
worthy  to  bear  the  name.  Her  influence,  how- 
ever, did  not  apparently  suffice  to  secure  the  ap- 
141 


V 


DOLLY  MADISON 


pointment,  as  he  had  doubtless  hoped  that  it 
might,  since  her  political  power  was  rated  very 
high  in  her  day  and  generation. 

Even  after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  in  the 
recently  published  letters  of  James  G.  Blaine, 
that  shrewd  observer,  familiar  with  all  the 
traditions  of  Washington,  writes  of  Mrs.  Madi- 
son as  a political  force.  In  the  course  of  a 
series  of  comments  on  the  influence  exerted 
by  the  wives  of  the  different  presidents,  he 
says : “ Mrs.  Madison  saved  the  administra- 
tion of  her  husband,  held  him  back  from  the 
extremes  of  Jeffersonism,  and  enabled  him  to 
escape  from  the  terrible  dilemma  of  the  war  of 
’12.  But  for  her,  De  Witt  Clinton  would  have 
been  chosen  president  in  1812.”  Whether  the 
facts  bear  out  quite  so  large  a claim,  may  be 
questioned,  but  there  is  little  doubt  that  many 
appointments  were  attributed  to  her  interces- 
sion, and  a study  of  her  character  makes  it 
probable  that,  however  little  she  may  have 
desired  to  mingle  in  general  political  affairs, 
she  was  glad  when  the  opportunity  offered  to 
be  of  service  to  her  friends,  and  now  and  then 
gave  them  pieces  of  timely  and  seiwiceable 
advice. 

Much  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  anecdote  have 
gathered  about  the  figure  of  Mrs.  Madison 
while  mistress  of  the  White  House.  Most  of 
142 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


them  are  trivial;  some  of  them  apocryphal,  but 
of  value  as  showing  at  least  the  popular  senti- 
ment, and  the  desire  to  preserve  the  records 
of  her  warmth  and  kindliness  of  heart. 

One  story  represents  two  old  ladies  from  the 
country,  escorted  by  a friend  of  Mrs.  Madison’s 
to  the  White  House  where  the  family  were 
still  at  breakfast.  To  the  surprise  of  the  rural 
visitors,  the  woman  they  had  come  to  see 
appeared  in  a stuff  dress  of  dark  gray,  protected 
by  a large  housewifely  white  apron,  and  with 
a linen  kerchief  pinned  about  her  neck.  Her 
simplicity  of  manner  and  attire  completely 
swept  away  their  awe,  and  before  departing 
one  of  them  found  courage  to  exclaim  : “Per- 
haps you  wouldn’t  mind  if  I kissed  you,  — just 
to  tell  the  folks  about.” 

On  a subsequent  occasion  at  one  of  her 
levees,  her  attention  was  drawn  to  another 
rustic  visitor,  a youth  who  was  evidently  suf- 
fering all  the  torments  of  embarrassment.  He 
had  at  last  ventured  to  help  himself  to  a cup 
of  coffee  when  Mrs.  Madison  walked  up  and 
addressed  him.  In  the  surprise  of  the  moment 
the  lad  dropped  the  saucer  and  strove  to  crowd 
the  cup  into  his  pocket.  But  his  tactful  hostess 
took  no  notice  of  the  accident  except  to  observe 
that  in  such  a crowd  no  one  could  avoid  being 
jostled,  and  straightway  turned  the  conversa- 
143 


DOLLY  MADISON 


tion  to  the  boy’s  family,  and  ended  by  sending 
her  regards  to  his  excellent  mother  and  bidding 
the  servant  bring  another  cup  of  coffee. 

A story  of  similar  import  is  related  by  Wil- 
liam C.  Preston  in  his  unpublished  journal.  He 
describes  his  going  as  a youth  to  the  White 
House  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  President  and 
Mrs.  Madison.  The  drawing-room  when  he 
entered  was  ablaze  with  brilliant  uniforms  and 
gorgeous  toilettes  made  doubly  dazzling  by 
' the  reflection  of  many  mirrors.  In  the  centre 
he  saw  Mrs.  Madison,  a tall,  portly,  elegant 
lady,  with  a turban  on  her  head  and  a snuff- 
box in  her  hand.  “ She  advanced  straight 
towards  me,”  he  writes,  “ and  extending  her 
left  hand  said  : ‘ Are  you  William  Campbell 
Preston,  the  son  of  my  old  friend  and  most 
beloved  kinswoman,  Sally  Campbell  ? Sit  down, 
my  son,  for  you  are  my  son,  and  I am  the 
first  person  who  ever  saw  you  in  this  world.’  ” 
Turning  then  with  a graciousness  which 
charmed  the  young  man,  she  introduced  him 
to  the  circle  of  young  girls  about  her,  giving 
some  special  clue  to  each,  and  ending  with 
“ your  kinswoman,  Sally  Coles.”  Who  can 
estimate  the  effect  of  such  trifling  episodes  as 
these  in  making  an  administration  popular 
perhaps  even  to  the  extent  quoted  above  of 
saving  it ! 


144 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


Her  notions  of  Virginia  hospitality  Mrs. 
Madison  never  abandoned  throughout  her  stay 
in  Washington.  She  counted  the  nation’s 
guests  her  guests,  and  she  devoted  all  her  time 
and  energy  to  ministering  to  the  comfort  and  en- 
joyment of  those  about  her,  and  in  particular  of 
strangers  and  foreigners.  Jackson,  the  British 
Minister  at  the  time,  wrote  home  of  his  amuse- 
ment when  during  his  first  conference  with 
President  Madison  a negro-servant  knocked  at 
the  door  and  brought  in  a tray  bountifully  laden 
with  punch  and  seed-cake.  There  is  no  record 
that  the  English  diplomat  declined  the  viands, 
however  little  he  appreciated  the  spirit  which 
prompted  the  sending  of  them. 

The  weariness  inevitably  resulting  from  such 
ceaseless  activity  as  Mrs.  Madison’s  made  her 
very  glad  when,  in  the  summer  of  1811,  the 
President  found  himself  able  to  take  a few 
weeks  of  rest  in  the  bracing  air  of  Montpellier. 

A letter  sent  to  Mr.  Madison  on  the  occasion 
of  their  departure  is  interesting  as  affording  an 
illustration  of  the  difficulties  with  which  Mrs. 
Madison  contended  in  her  efforts  to  please 
every  one  and  give  offence  to  none : — 

Monday  Evening,  Aug.  — 1811. 

Sir,  — To  prevent  any  Suspicion  of  a deficiency 
in  respect  to  you  and  your  Lady  whom  we  have 
10  145 


DOLLY  MADISON 


never  ceased  to  more  than  respect  & esteem  — I 
am  unwilling  to  permit  you  to  depart  without  ex- 
pressing our  sincere  regret  that  when  your  Depar- 
ture was  made  known  to  all  our  Friends  by  her 
farewell  visit  to  them,  and  they  were  thereby 
enabled  to  pay  their  parting  respects,  we  remained 
ignorant  thereof,  and  were  consequently  precluded 
from  joining  in  so  affectionate  a visit.  Had  it 
been  merely  accident,  we  should  not  in  apologizing 
for  an  apparent  want  of  attention  have  had  to 
mingle  with  our  regrets  any  of  those  feelings  which 
afflict  while  they  affect : — but  I have  long  had  to 
lament  a marked  distance  and  coldness  towards 
me,  for  which  I cannot  account,  and  am  the  more 
affected  by  it,  because  we  once  enjoyed  the  happi- 
ness of  being  considered  as  among  your  Friends. 
It  would  have  been  kind  to  have  mentioned  any 
cause  of  dissatisfaction  rather  than  wound  us  by 
exhibiting  to  the  world  our  misfortune  in  the  loss 
of  your  friendship  & esteem.  — 

Farewell,  & may  the  Almighty  bless  you  & 
yours.  — 

William  Thornton. 
To  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

The  first  of  October  found  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Madison  again  in  Washington  refreshed  and 
reinvigorated,  though  the  citizens  of  the  capital 
were  suffering  from  a low  fever  resulting  from 
the  unfinished  condition  of  a canal. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  (1811)  the  poet- 

146 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


politician,  Joel  Barlow,  author  of  The  Hasty 
Pudding  and  Revolutionary  pamphlets,  was 
sent  abroad  as  Minister  to  Prance.  Barlow 
had  hoped  for  a still  higher  office.  In  a 
letter  written  two  years  earlier,  he  congratu- 
lates the  President  on  his  election,  and  offers 
his  views  on  the  conduct  of  the  government. 
He  confesses  that  he  had  expected  the  posi- 
tion of  Secretary  of  State,  and  observes  that 
it  was  his  extreme  solicitude  for  the  good 
of  his  country  which  led  him  to  desire  the 
place. 

Apparently  Madison  differed  with  him  as  to 
the  best  interests  of  the  country,  for  it  was  not 
until  1811  that  he  received  any  appointment, 
and  then  to  a foreign  embassy.  This  is  one 
of  the  appointments  which  may,  perhaps,  be 
traced  to  Mrs.  Madison’s  influence,  as  the  Bar- 
lows  were  among  her  most  intimate  friends, 
and  during  the  whole  term  of  their  residence 
abroad,  which  was  ended  by  the  sudden  death 
of  Barlow,  near  Krakow  in  Poland,  in  1812, 
they  kept  up  a brisk  correspondence  with  her. 

I deprecate  the  contempt  of  the  advanced 
woman  when  I confess,  as  I am  compelled  to 
do,  that  the  theme  of  these  mutual  letters  even 
to  and  from  Paris,  in  the  days  pulsating  with 
those  Napoleonic  conquests  and  disasters  which 
were  shaking  Europe  to  its  centre,  was  chiefly 
147 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ cloaths.”  “ Our  girls,”  said  Barlow  to  Mrs. 
Madison,  “ will  write  you  about  Courts  and 
fashion  and  finery.”  His  wife,  in  another  letter 
in  which  she  urges  Mrs.  Madison’s  sister  Lucy  to 
come  over  to  Paris  for  the  winter,  adds  : “ I want 
to  send  you  some  pretty  things  which  are  the 
high  style  here,  gold  and  silver  with  silk  done  on 
mull.  Mr.  Lee  has  sent  you  so  much  of  every 
kind  of  dress,  and  it  is  so  difficult  to  send  to 
the  post  and  then  to  get  any  one  to  take 
charge  of  valuable  things,  that  I shall  send 
nothing.” 

Mrs.  Madison  in  turn  writes  to  Mrs.  Barlow, 
in  the  spring  of  1812,  mentioning  incidentally 
that  the  embargo  has  been  laid  on,  and  that 
war  is  imminent,  that  the  Vice-President  is 
thought  to  be  dying,  and  that  there  are  rumors 
that  Napoleon  has  seized  the  “ Hornet.”  Hav- 
ing disposed  of  these  trifling  items  her  interest 
kindles  to  the  real  subject  of  her  letter,  the 
ribbons  and  flowers  and  gowns  recently  re- 
ceived, which  she  pronounces  enchanting;  hut 
fears  she  will  never  be  able  to  order  any  more, 
as  the  duties  on  these  amounted  to  two  thousand 
dollars. 

Part  of  this  Parisian  finery,  no  doubt,  found 
its  way  into  the  wedding  outfit  of  Mrs.  Lucy 
Washington,  who  was  married  in  March  of 
this  year  to  Judge  Todd,  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
148 


IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


a widower  with  several  children.  He  was  much 
older  than  herself ; but  the  choice  was  com- 
mended by  the  Madisons  who  had  found  dis- 
parity of  age  no  barrier  to  domestic  happiness, 
and  who  knew  Judge  Todd  to  be  a man  of 
sound  character  and  marked  ability. 

Mrs.  Madison  had  now,  in  1812,  reached  her 
forty-fourth  year,  but  she  held  her  youthful 
appearance  still,  not  perhaps  without  artificial 
aid,  for  one  of  her  wannest  admirers  admitted 
that  she  used  rouge  and  powder,  but  claimed 
that  it  was  from  no  motives  of  vanity,  but  only 
to  give  pleasure  to  those  who  looked  at  her. 
However  this  may  be,  her  good  spirits  and 
sweet  temper  were  at  least  her  own,  and  abode 
with  her  to  the  end. 

Her  son,  Payne  Todd,  was  now  a young  man 
grown.  He  had  been  at  school  in  Baltimore, 
and  there  had  been  a project  of  sending  him  to 
Princeton,  but,  apparently,  he  had  shown  little 
desire  for  a college  education,  or,  indeed,  any 
inclination  for  scholarly  pursuits.  His  mother’s 
heart,  however,  was  still  full  of  schemes  for  his 
future,  and  of  hopes  for  his  usefulness  and 
prominence.  It  is  seldom  given  to  mortals  to 
enjoy  such  fulness  of  satisfaction  as  was  Mrs. 
Madison’s  at  this  period.  She  possessed  to  the 
full  the  three  gifts  which  have  been  declared 
recpfisite  to  a happy  life  : She  had  much  to  do, 
149 


DOLLY  MADISON 


much  to  love,  and  much  to  hope  for ; but 
clouds  and  gloom  were  gathering  thick  and 
fast  around  her  country  and  her  husband,  and 
for  the  next  three  years,  Dolly  Madison  was 
destined  to  walk  in  their  shadow. 


150 


VIII 


WAR  CLOUDS 

On  a June  afternoon  in  the  year  1812,  the 
“National  Intelligencer  ” of  Washington  City, 
made  the  announcement  that  war  had  been 
declared  by  the  United  States  against  Great 
Britain.  The  night  mail  bore  copies  of  the 
paper  far  and  wide,  and  the  nest  day  knots  of 
people  gathered  at  every  tavern  and  post-office 
along  the  routes  to  discuss  the  political  situa- 
tion. On  the  morning  of  June  twentieth  the 
news  reached  New  York,  and  was  confirmed  by 
a bulletin  issued  from  a fort  off  the  Battery, 
now  Castle  Garden.  In  the  broad,  tranquil 
harbor  lay  a fleet  of  merchant  vessels  in  the 
idleness  enforced  by  the  new  embargo,  pro- 
claimed again  in  the  spring  of  this  year.  Over 
the  tops  of  their  masts  hung  tar-barrels,  used 
to  protect  the  wood  from  rotting,  and  known 
familiarly  and  derisively  as  “ Madison’s  night- 
caps.” But  among  these  merchant-men,  list- 
lessly tossing  on  the  summer  tide  or  moored 
151 


DOLLY  MADISON 


to  their  wharves,  was  a group  of  American 
warships,  full  of  life  and  eager  preparation. 

On  Sunday  the  twenty-first  of  June  the 
strongest  naval  force  which  the  country  could 
muster,  a squadron  consisting  of  four  ships,  the 
President,  the  Congress,  the  Hornet,  and  the 
Argus,  heaved  anchor,  and  with  the  United 
States  flag  flying  at  the  mast-head  of  every 
vessel,  put  out  to  sea  in  search  of  British  cruis- 
ers. War  had  begun. 

War  ! For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Dolly 
Madison  was  now  to  learn  the  meaning  of  the 
word.  As  a little  child  she  had,  it  is  true, 
lived  in  an  invaded  country,  but  the  raiders 
had  passed  by  at  a distance,  and  the  echoes  of 
the  guns  at  Williamsburg  and  Yorktown  were 
faint  and  far  from  the  peaceful  Hanover 
County  plantation,  and  youth  recks  little  of 
everything  that  passes  beyond  the  grasp  of  its 
touch  and  sight  and  hearing.  In  the  twenty- 
nine  years  of  peace  which  had  followed  the 
close  of  the  Revolution,  she  like  the  rest  of  the 
world  had  had  time  to  forget,  and  the  peace 
and  prosperity  of  the  nation  had  come  to  be 
taken  for  granted  and  as  a matter  of  course. 
Mighty  changes  these  twenty-nine  years  had 
wrought.  The  steamboat  had  appeared,  and 
the  press  had  grown  into  an  enormous  power. 
The  population  of  the  country  had  nearly 
152 


WAR  CLOUDS 


doubled.  Tlie  area  of  its  territory  (thanks 
to  the  Louisiana  purchase)  had  more  than 
doubled. 

The  United  States  possessed  at  this  time 
in  comparison  with  Revolutionary  days  a great 
advantage  for  war-making  in  its  compacted 
nationality,  and  its  centralized  government ; 
but  as  a counterbalancing  disadvantage,  the 
popular  sympathy  was  by  no  means  so  deeply 
stirred  as  in  the  earlier  contest,  and  there 
was  a powerful  party  which  persisted  in  re- 
garding this  as  a war,  not  of  the  nation,  but 
of  a faction  which  had  put  a halter  round  the 
neck  of  the  President  and  dragged  him  into 
the  declaration  of  hostilities  against  his  better 
judgment  and  almost  against  his  will. 

There  was,  it  is  true,  throughout  the  country, 
a very  wide-spread  indignation  against  the 
conduct  of  England.  The  right  of  search 
claimed  and  exercised  by  the  captains  of  Brit- 
ish men-of-war,  who  stopped  American  vessels 
upon  the  high  seas,  and  took  from  their  crews 
any  sailors  whom  they  chose  to  consider  British 
seamen,  was  highly  exasperating  to  American 
pride ; and  the  efforts  of  England  to  restrain 
American  commerce  with  France  during  the 
Napoleonic  wars,  touched  the  pocket,  as  well 
as  the  pride  of  the  new  nation.  The  British 
exactions  and  liarassments,  culminating  in  the 
15a 


DOLLY  MADISON 


famous  Orders  in  Council,  at  length  roused 
so  hot  an  opposition,  that  the  government  of 
the  United  States  was  drawn  on  to  a declara- 
tion of  war,  and  the  people  took  up  the  war-cry 
of  “ Free  trade  and  sailors’  rights  ! ” 

But  the  government  had  enemies  within  its 
borders  as  well  as  without.  The  Federalists, 
smarting  under  their  years  of  defeat,  now  saw 
their  opportunity  to  attack  their  political  oppo- 
nents. The  war  was  called  “ Madison’s  War.” 
It  was  assailed  as  unwise,  unnecessary,  and  ill- 
timed.  In  short,  all  the  floods  of  Federalist 
bitterness  were  let  loose  on  poor  Madison’s 
devoted  head,  and  Mrs.  Madison  must  often 
have  been  tempted  to  exclaim  with  the  unfor- 
tunate French  queen  : “ Why  do  they  hate  us 
so  ? ” 

Defeat  and  victory  alike  afforded  occasion  for 
attacks  on  the  administration.  On  the  receipt 
of  the  news  of  Hull’s  disgraceful  surrender  at 
Detroit,  the  papers  were  furious,  not  only  at 
Hull’s  treachery  and  cowardice,  but  at  the 
incompetence  of  Madison,  Eustis,  and  Dear- 
born. On  the  announcement  of  the  splendid 
victories  gained  in  the  lights  between  the 
Wasp  and  the  Frolic;  the  Hornet  and  the 
Peacock : the  captures  of  the  Alert  the  Guer- 
riere  and  Macedonian,  the  enemies  of  Madison 
hurrahed  for  American  seamanship  and  valor, 
151 


WAR  CLOUDS 


ancl  cursed  the  fortune  of  such  men  in  being 
governed  by  a set  of  forcible  feebles,  like  Madi- 
son and  his  cabinet. 

The  persistency  with  which  the  opposition 
press  belittled  victories  and  exaggerated  de- 
feats, attributed  evil  motives  and  maligned 
character,  went  beyond  even  the  days  in  Jef- 
ferson’s administration,  when  in  his  wrath  the 
President  declared  that  nothing  could  be  be- 
lieved that  was  found  in  the  pages  of  a news- 
paper, since  truth  itself  became  suspicious  from 
such  a polluted  vehicle.  “ The  man,”  he  said, 
“ who  never  looks  into  a newspaper  is  better 
informed  than  he  who  reads  them,  inasmuch  as 
he  who  knows  nothing  is  nearer  to  truth  than 
he  whose  mind  is  filled  with  falsehood  and 
errors.” 

Through  all  this  strife  which  raged  almost 
as  hotly  within  as  without  the  borders  of  the 
country,  Mrs.  Madison  proved  herself  a true 
helpmeet  to  her  anxious  and  harassed  hus- 
band. Bearing  herself  with  her  wonted  equa- 
nimity, she  relieved  him  as  far  as  possible  from 
all  the  social  burdens  which  weigh  heavily  upon 
the  time  and  strength  of  a busy  man,  espe- 
cially of  one  with  so  little  reserve  of  strength 
as  Madison.  Her  doors  were  open  to  men  of 
all  parties  and  shades  of  opinion,  and  within 
her  walls  all  animosities  were  dropped,  or  at 
155 


DOLLY  MADISON 


least  held  in  abeyance.  For  the  days  of  defeat 
she  had  a steady  and  cheerful  courage  which 
inspired  the  doubtful  with  the  assurance  of 
ultimate  success,  and  at  the  news  of  victory  her 
face  was  an  illumination. 

After  the  capture  of  the  Macedonian,  Lieu- 
tenant Hamilton,  son  of  Paul  Hamilton,  Sec- 
retary of  the  Navy,  was  sent  on  to  Washington 
bearing  the  flag  of  the  conquered  vessel  as  a 
trophy.  On  his  arrival  at  the  city  he  was  in- 
formed that  a brilliant  naval  ball  was  being 
held  at  Tomlinson’s  Hotel  in  celebration  of  the 
victories  over  the  Alert  and  the  Guerriere. 
Lieutenant  Hamilton  hastened  to  the  scene  of 
festivities,  where  he  found  the  President,  the 
officers  of  the  cabinet,  and  other  distinguished 
guests  making  merry  in  the  ball-room  which 
was  decorated  with  the  flags  of  the  two  con- 
quered vessels.  Hamilton  entered  amid  such 
an  excitement  that  it  nearly  raised  a panic, 
bearing  a third,  which,  as  the  legend  runs, 
he  laid  with  great  ceremony  at  the  feet  of  Mrs. 
Madison. 

A modern  historian  strives  to  rob  us  of  this 
pretty  story  of  the  flag  laid  at  Mrs.  Madison’s 
feet  and  to  fling  it  into  the  dust-heap  of  false- 
hood together  with  Tell’s  apple  and  Wash- 
ington’s hatchet ; but  my  belief  that  this,  or 
something  very  much  like  it,  did  take  place  is 
156 


TFTfl  CLOUDS 


strong,  and  is  confirmed  by  an  odd  little  bit  of 
circumstantial  evidence  which  is  to  be  found 
in  a letter  from  a lady  of  the  period,  full  of 
gossip  and  incident  and  speaking  very  freely 
of  the  leaders  of  Washington  society.  This 
writer  declares  that  almost  all  the  ladies,  in- 
cluding Mrs.  Monroe  (who  being  a grandmother 
should  be  willing  to  grow  old),  make  free  use 
of  rouge  and  pearl-powder  : “ Mrs.  Madison,” 
she  adds,  “ is  said  to  rouge  ; but  not  evident 
to  my  eyes,  and  I do  not  think  it  is  true,  as  I 
am  well  assured  I saw  her  color  come  and  go 
at  the  naval  ball  when  the  Macedonian  flag 
was  presented  to  her  by  young  Hamilton.”  Such 
testimony  as  this  is  not  to  be  gainsaid. 

The  scene  of  the  ball  made  a deep  impres- 
sion on  all  present.  A few  days  later  “ The 
War,”  a New  York  journal,  published  the 
following  account,  written  by  an  eye-witness. 

Washixgtox,  Dec.  10th,  1812. 

The  news  of  the  third  brilliant  Naval  victory 
was  received  in  this  city  through  the  medium  of 
private  letters,  on  the  evening  of  Tuesday  last,  and 
having  been  announced  by  an  extra  from  the  office 
of  the  National  Intelligencer,  was  hailed  with  the 
most  lively  demonstrations  of  joy.  The  city  was 
generally,  and  in  some  parts  of  it  brilliantly, 
illuminated,  as  soon  as  the  day  shut  in.  It  so 
happene  that  the  very  evening  of  its  arrival  had 
157 


DOLLY  MADISON 


been  previously  selected  for  1 A Naval  Ball,  ’ in 
compliment  to  tlie  officers  of  the  Navy  generally, 
and  particularly  to  Captain  Stewart,  in  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  politeness  to  our  citizens  on  a 
recent  occasion.1  A large  and  very  respectable 
company  assembled.  The  scene  was  graced  by  the 
presence  of  nearly  all  the  beauty  and  fashion  of  our 
City.  All  was  joy  and  gayety,  such  as  could  scarcely 
admit  of  augmentation.  And  yet  it  was  destined 
to  be  increased.  About  nine  o’clock  a rumor  was 
spread  through  the  assembly  that  Lieutenant 
Hamilton,  the  son  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
had  reached  the  house,  the  bearer  of  the  colors  of 
the  Macedonian  and  despatches  from  Commodore 
Decatur.  The  gentlemen  crowded  down  to  meet 
him.  He  was  received  with  loud  cheers  and  es- 
corted to  the  festive  hall,  where  awaited  him  the 
fond  embrace  of  a father,  mother,  and  sisters. 
It  was  a scene  easier  felt  than  described.  The 
room  in  which  the  company  had  assembled  had 
been  previously  decorated  with  the  trophies  of 
naval  victory.  The  colors  of  the  Guerriere  and 
the  Alert  displayed  on  the  walls  roused  the  proud 
feelings  of  patriotism,  and  had  revived  in  every 

i This  “recent  occasion”  was  a grand  dinner  given  by 
Captain  Stewart  on  board  the  Constellation,  which  lay  in 
the  Potomac,  off  Washington.  The  ship  was  gaily  decorated 
with  flags  and  bunting,  belles  and  beaux  danced  beneath  an 
awning  of  red,  white,  and  blue,  and  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
quarter  deck  Mrs.  Madison  sat  surrounded  by  the  most  distin- 
guished guests.  Her  son,  Payne  Todd,  was  spoken  of  as  the 
courtliest  of  all  the  cavaliers  present. 

158 


TTJ.R  CLOUDS 


mind  the  recollection  of  the  bravery  which  won 
them.  The  flag  of  the  Macedonian  alone  was 
wanting  to  complete  the  group.  It  was  produced 
and  borne  into  the  hall  by  Captains  Hull  and 
Stewart,  and  others  of  our  brave  seamen,  amid  the 
loud  exclamations  of  the  company,  and  greeted  with 
national  music  from  the  band. 

These  brilliant  triumphs  of  American  arms 
compelled  enthusiasm  even  from  the  opposition 
faction,  and  from  the  beginning  the  administra- 
tion had  had  the  cordial  support  of  some  of 
the  ablest  journals  in  the  country.  The  Muse 
too  had  been  roused,  inspired  by  patriotic 
fervor ; and  many  were  the  metrical  composi- 
tions (a  strict  regard  for  truth  forbids  me  to 
call  them  poems)  which  appeared  in  the  corners 
of  the  daily  papers.  A writer  signing  himself 
“ Zephri,”  was  one  of  the  most  frequent  and 
enthusiastic  contributors.  One  of  his  effusions 
written  for  the  “ Columbian  ” was  so  popular  as 
to  be  copied  in  various  journals.  To  our  jaded 
generation  which  is  unwilling  to  accept 
sincerity  of  aim  and  natural  emotion  in  lieu 
of  correct  figures  of  speech,  it  may  seem  to 
lack  something,  but  it  evidently  fired  the  hearts 
of  Zephri’s  contemporaries. 

In  one  of  the  many  stanzas  whose  number 
scarce  suffices  to  express  his  swelling  emotion, 
he  asks  : — 


159 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ Is  there  one  — a milky  heart 

Curdling  at  the  thought  of  death; 

Shrinking  from  a valiant  part 
To  prolong  a puny  breath  ? ” 

If  any  one  is  to  be  found  confessing  to  so 
ignominious  an  inward  condition,  “the  coward 
slave  ” is  bidden  to  retire,  with  the  express  un- 
derstanding, however,  that  he  forfeits  forever 
all  right  and  title  to  beauty’s  smile,  and  that 
he  consents  to  fill  a righteously  despised  grave. 
One  can  fancy  the  thrilling  effect  of  the  verse 
as  recited  by  the  school-boy  with  appropriate 
gestures,  and  how  it  stirred  the  hearts  which 
were  not  “ milky  ” to  due  contempt  for  those 
that  were. 

At  the  time  of  the  appearance  of  these  lines, 
a mob  in  Baltimore  was  striving  to  apply  their 
principles  practically  by  compelling  the  retire- 
ment of  the  editors  of  a paper  called  the  “ Fed- 
eral Republican  ” which  had  been  vehement  in 
denouncing  the  war.  The  disgraceful  attack 
upon  these  editors  and  their  friends  (among 
them  “Light  Horse  Harry”  Lee),  who  were 
defending  the  liberty  of  the  press  with  their 
lives,  ended  in  a wholesale,  brutal  murder  in 
which  nine  men  were  beaten  down  by  butch- 
ers’ clubs,  and  left  mutilated  on  the  steps  of 
the  jail  whither  they  had  been  taken  for  protec- 
tion. Instantly  the  country  was  in  an  uproar. 

160 


WAR  CLOUDS 


Baltimore  received  the  sobriquet  of  “ Mob- 
Town,”  and  the  rioters  were  spoken  of  as 
“ Madison’s  Mob.” 

Thus,  amid  war  without  and  dissension  within, 
the  first  term  of  the  President’s  administration 
drew  to  a close.  The  opposition  was  so  vio- 
lent that  it  seemed  quite  likely  that  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  country  would  pass  to  other 
hands.  There  is  good  reason  for  believing 
that  Mrs.  Madison’s  popularity,  if  it  did  not 
save  the  administration,  at  least  formed  an  im- 
portant factor  in  securing  the  re-election  of 
her  husband.  Her  tact  poured  oil  upon  the 
troubled  waters  of  political  life,  and  the  little 
attentions  to  the  wives  of  disaffected  politi- 
cians, which  her  good  nature  led  her  to  offer, 
were  not  without  their  influence.  There  was 
much  jarring  in  the  cabinet  itself,  and  here,  too, 
Mrs.  Madison  smoothed  and  softened  and 
quieted,  as  far  as  in  her  lay,  all  jealousies  and 
disaffections. 

Washington  Irving,  who  was  again  at  the 
capital  in  the  winter  of  1812-18,  wrote  to 
James  Renwick,  “ Mrs.  Madison  has  been  much 
indisposed,  and  at  last  Wednesday’s  drawing- 
room Mrs.  Gallatin  presided  in  her  place.” 
He  describes  Mrs.  Gallatin  as  the  most  stylish 
woman  at  the  levees,  and  dressed  with  more 
“ splendor  than  any  other  of  the  noblesse.” 

11  161 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ I was  not  present,”  he  adds,  “ but  those  who 
were  assure  me  that  she  filled  Mrs.  Madison’s 
chair  to  a miracle.”  When  we  recall  that  it 
was  only  the  year  before  this  that  the  relations 
of  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Trea- 
sury had  been  so  strained  that  Gallatin  had 
tendered  the  resignation  of  his  portfolio,  one 
reads  between  the  lines  a suggestion  that  Dolly 
Madison’s  indispositions  were  put  to  a good 
use,  and  that  she  was  fully  alive  to  the  im- 
portant part  played  by  small  things  in  large 
affairs. 

It  is  not  without  a smile,  too,  that  we  read  of 
the  pleasure  with  which  young  Mrs.  Seaton,  wife 
of  the  chief  of  that  influential  journal,  the  “Na- 
tional Intelligencer,”  records  the  attentions 
paid  her  by  the  mistress  of  the  White  House. 
At  the  first  levee  in  the  fall  of  1812,  she  looked 
on  from  a distance.  “ William  ” (her  hus- 
band) was  much  solicited  to  attend,  but  pre- 
ferred remaining  at  home  with  his  wife,  who 
had  not  yet  been  presented  to  “ Her  Majesty,” 
and  did  not  think  it  etiquette  to  appear  till 
that  ceremony  had  been  performed.  Mrs. 
Madison,  however,  inquired  graciously  for  her 
of  a relative  who  was  present,  and  shortly 
after  she  and  her  husband  were  bidden  to  a 
formal  dinner  at  the  White  House. 

The  party,  beside  the  Seatons,  consisted  of  the 
162 


WAR  CLOUDS 


Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  Albert  Gallatin,  the 
Minister  to  England,  Mr.  Russell,  Mr.  Richard 
Cutts,  old  General  Yan  Ness  and  his  family, 
General  Smith  and  his  daughter  from  New 
York,  the  Magruders,  Colonel  Goodwyn  and 
daughter,  William  R.  King  (then  in  Congress, 
subsequently  elected  vice-president  on  the 
ticket  with  Pierce),  and  Washington  Irving. 
These,  with  one  or  two  foreigners,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Madison,  the  secretary,  Mr.  Coles,  and 
their  son,  Payne  Todd,  made  up  the  company. 

Mrs.  Seaton  gives  a very  graphic  account  of 
the  occasion.  “ William  and  I,”  she  says ; 
“ repaired  to  the  palace  between  three  and  four 
o’clock,  our  carriage  setting  us  down  after 
the  first  comers  and  before  the  last.  It  is 
customary  on  whatever  occasion  to  advance 
to  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  pay  your  obei- 
sance to  Mrs.  Madison,  courtesy  to  His  High- 
ness, and  take  a seat,  and  after  this  ceremony 
being  at  liberty  to  speak  to  acquaintances,  etc. 
Mrs.  Madison  very  handsomely  came  to  me 
and  led  me  nearest  the  fire,  introduced  Mrs. 
Magruder,  and  sat  down  politely  between  us, 
talking  on  familiar  subjects,  by  her  own  ease 
and  manners  making  her  guests  feel  at 
home.  Mr.  King  came  to  our  side  sans  cere- 
monie,  and  gaily  chatted  with  us  till  dinner 
was  announced. 


163 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ Mrs.  Magruder  by  privilege  of  age  was 
entitled  to  the  right  hand  of  her  hostess,  and  I, 
in  virtue  of  being  a stranger,  to  the  next  seat ; 
Mr.  Russell  to  her  left,  the  President’s  secretary 
at  the  foot  of  the  table,  the  President  in  the 
middle,  which  relieves  him  from  the  trouble  of 
serving  guests,  drinking  wine,  etc.” 

The  dinner  is  described  as  very  fine,  particu- 
larly the  wines,  which  were  much  discussed 
when  the  cloth  was  removed.  The  dessert  with 
its  ice-creams,  preserves,  and  macaroons  was 
followed  by  fruit,  nuts,  and  raisins,  and  then 
candles  were  brought  in  and  the  ladies  left  the 
table. 

To  beguile  the  period  of  suspended  animation 
before  the  gentlemen  joined  them  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, Mrs.  Madison  persuaded  Mrs.  Seaton 
to  play  a waltz  upon  the  grand  piano,  while  she 
instructed  Miss  Smith  in  a new  step.  At  length 
the  gentlemen  strolled  in,  and  then  all  the 
party  adjourned  to  the  tea-room,  and  here  the 
talk  wandered  from  Shakespeare  to  the  musical 
glasses,  always  led  by  Mrs.  Madison.  The 
young  guest  bursts  out  at  last  into  irrepressible 
enthusiasm : “ I could  describe  the  dignified 
appearance  of  Mrs.  Madison,  but  I could  not  do 
her  justice.  It  is  not  her  form  ; it  is  not  her  face. 
It  is  the  woman  altogether  whom  I should  wish 
you  to  see.  She  wears  a crimson  cap  that  almost 
164 


WAR  CLOUDS 


hides  her  forehead,  but  which  becomes  her 
extremely,  and  reminded  one  of  a crown  from 
its  brilliant  appearance  contrasted  with  the 
white  satin  folds  and  her  jet-black  curls ; but 
her  demeanor  is  so  removed  from  the  hauteur 
generally  attendant  on  royalty  that  your  fancy 
can  carry  the  resemblance  no  further.” 

Does  any  one  doubt  that  “ William  ” went 
home  more  convinced  than  ever  of  the  jus- 
tice of  the  war  and  the  wisdom  of  Madison’s 
policy,  and  that  the  “ National  Intelligencer  ” 
spread  far  and  wide  the  opinion  that  the  man 
for  the  next  presidency  was  already  found, 
and  that  James  Madison  must  be  his  own 
successor  ? 

On  New  Year’s  day,  1813,  the  White  House 
stood  open  to  all  the  world,  and  even  the  dis- 
affected called  to  offer  greetings  to  the  nation’s 
chief.  There  was  a dense  crowd,  and  the  noise 
Avas  so  great  that  it  almost  extinguished  the 
music  of  the  Marine  Band,  who  were  stationed 
in  the  ante-room,  puffing,  blowing,  and  thump- 
ing in  the  vain  effort  to  make  themselves  heard 
above  the  babel  of  human  voices. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  queenly,  in  her  rose-colored 
satin  robe  trimmed  with  ermine,  with  her  tur- 
ban fastened  by  a crescent  whence  towered  white 
ostrich  plumes  which  marked  her  wherever  she 
walked.  The  President  was  lost  from  time  to 
165 


DOLLY  MADISON 


time  in  the  throng;  but  his  wife’s  plumes 
towered  like  the  emblem  of  Navarre. 

The  blinds  were  open,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
reception  the  attention  of  the  company  was 
attracted  toward  an  object  so  brilliant  in  the 
winter  sunlight  that  it  looked  like  a golden 
ball  carried  along  on  gilded  wings,  but  when  it 
stopped  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  it  proved  to  be 
only  the  coach  of  the  French  Minister,  and  the 
wings  but  a pair  of  footmen  gorgeous  in  tinsel- 
braid,  glittering  swords,  and  chapeaux  bras. 

Thus  brilliantly  opened  the  year  of  1813, 
and  March  fulfilled  the  promise  of  January. 
James  Madison  was  again  declared  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  Mistress  Dolly 
entered  upon  four  more  years  of  public  life. 
Their  satisfaction  in  this  second  triumph  was 
not  unalloyed.  Both  husband  and  wife  were 
beginning  to  tire  of  all  the  noise  and  show 
and  glitter.  Those  who  saw  the  President  on 
this  fourth  of  March  (and  they  included  every 
one  who  could  walk  or  was  the  happy  possessor 
of  a carriage,  or  could  pay  twenty-five  cents  for 
hack  hire)  pronounced  him  thinner  and  paler 
than  at  his  first  inauguration.  His  voice  was 
so  low  and  weak  that  the  words  of  his  address 
could  scarcely  be  heard,  and  at  his  reception 
the  incessant  bowing,  which  in  those  days  took 
the  place  of  the  plebeian  hand-shaking  of  our 
166 


WAR  CLOUDS 


time,  fatigued  him  almost  beyond  endurance  ; 
but  bis  wife  was  as  brilliant,  tactful,  and  helpful 
as  ever,  and  still  mindful  of  her  husband’s  inter- 
ests, begged  Mrs.  Seaton  to  assist  at  her  levee 
and  “ not  to  desert  the  standard  altogether.” 

A miniature  exquisitely  painted  on  ivory 
sets  forth  the  Mrs.  Madison  of  those  days,  as 
a still  blooming  dame  with  a turban  of  some 
soft  white  stuff,  showing,  however,  a wider  mar- 
gin of  coal-black  curls  than  the  Quakeress  cap 
of  old.  Ear-drops  (she  had  a pair,  of  amethyst, 
hung  in  chains  in  shape  of  a letter  M)  and  a neck- 
lace and  the  bunch  of  rose-buds  set  jauntily  in 
the  front  of  the  turban  give  an  effect  of  full- 
dress,  as  befits  the  gown  of  velvet  cut  low 
over  the  shoulders,  with  short,  puffed  sleeves, 
from  beneath  which  fall  full  undersleeves  of 
white.  A filmy  neckerchief  of  lace,  worn  rather 
off  than  over  the  shoulders,  completes  the  pic- 
turesque and  altogether  pleasing  costume. 


167 


IX 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1814  that  the 
most  dramatic  event  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  life 
occurred.  The  war  had  been  dragging  its  slow 
length  along  with  varying  fortunes,  when  too 
late  the  nation  awoke  to  find  its  capital  threat- 
ened by  a powerful  army  at  its  very  gates. 
Washington  at  this  time  was  a straggling 
village,  numbering  about  eight  thousand  in- 
habitants. It  depended  for  its  protection  upon 
a beggarly  guard  of  five  hundred  regulars  and 
an  untrained  force  of  militia,  supported  by  a 
few  gunboats.  All  at  once,  these  raw  troops 
found  themselves  opposed  to  a British  army 
containing  a thousand  marines  and  thirty-five 
hundred  veterans  who  had  seen  service  under 
Wellington. 

The  government  from  Madison  down  had 
shown  itself  fatuously  weak  in  its  utter  failure 
to  prepare  for  the  emergency.  In  J uly  General 
Winder  had  written  : “ The  door  of  Washing- 
ton is  wide  open  and  can  not  be  shut  with  the 
few  troops  under  my  command.”  Despite  the 
168 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


warning  neither  he  nor  any  one  else  made  any 
adequate  effort  to  shut  it,  and  wide  open  it 
still  stood  on  that  fatal  day  in  August  when  the 
British  fleet  appeared  in  Chesapeake  Bay  off 
the  mouth  of  the  Potomac. 

Great  was  the  consternation  when  a post- 
rider  dashed  into  Washington  bearing  the 
news.  At  once  the  wildest  excitement  prevailed. 
The  President  and  his  cabinet  made  futile 
plans  which  resulted  only  in  a bewildering 
series  of  contradictory  orders  despatched  to 
General  Winder,  and  a general  requisition  on 
the  Governors  of  neighboring  States  for  militia 
to  protect  the  capital.  The  citizens  of  Wash- 
ington held  a public  meeting  and  raised  a force 
of  volunteer  troops  which  made  haste  to  aid 
General  Winder  in  erecting  defensive  works 
at  Bladensburg,  a village  in  Maryland,  situ- 
ated about  four  miles  from  Washington,  — its 
doorstep,  as  it  were,  — where  the  first  stand 
against  the  invaders  was  finally  made.  At 
last,  the  conviction  was  forced  home  upon  the 
most  sanguine  that  the  British  admiral  made 
no  idle  threat  when  he  swore  he  would  dine 
in  Washington,  and  make  his  bow  in  Mrs. 
Madison’s  drawing-room. 

Sunday,  August  twenty-first,  1814,  was  any- 
thing but  a day  of  rest  for  the  dwellers  at  the 
capital.  Washington  presented  a miniature  of 
169 


DOLLY  MADISON 


the  scene  at  Brussels  before  Waterloo.  Carts 
loaded  with  public  documents  and  private  valu- 
ables rattled  over  the  long  bridge,  leading  across 
the  Potomac  to  the  Virginia  shore.  Men  and 
women  scurried  about  seeking  safe  hiding- 
places  for  silver  and  jewels.  On  Monday  the 
banks  sent  away  all  their  specie. 

Meanwhile  the  British  fleet  had  passed  by 
the  Potomac  and  sailed  up  the  Patuxent  River, 
landing  their  troops  at  Benedict,  a point  in 
Maryland  about  thirty  miles  to  the  southeast 
of  Washington.  Thence  the  British  forces  were 
marching  calmly  along  the  shady  high-roads  in 
great  enjoyment  and  meeting  not  the  slightest 
opposition.  On  the  third  day  of  its  uninter- 
rupted advance,  the  British  column  fell  in  with 
a flotilla  of  gunboats,  which,  instead  of  making 
any  resistance,  were  blown  up  by  order  of 
Armstrong,  the  Secretary  of  War.  Barney, 
the  commander  of  the  destroyed  flotilla,  hast- 
ened to  add  his  five  hundred  men  to  the  number 
then  in  Winder’s  camp,  which  presented  a 
scene  of  noise  and  confusion  more  like  a race- 
course or  a fair  than  the  gathering  of  an  army 
about  to  fight  for  the  national  capital. 

At  nightfall  on  Monday,  the  twenty-second  of 
August,  Madison  arrived,  accompanied  by  Arm- 
strong, the  Secretary  of  War,  Jones,  the  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy,  and  Attorney-General  Rush. 

170 


TEE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


So  timid,  doubtful,  and  hesitating  a chief  as 
the  President  could  not  add  to  the  confidence 
or  effectiveness  of  either  officers  or  troops. 
General  Winder  was  little  better  either  as  a 
leader  or  a strategist,  for  while  he  massed  his 
troops  at  the  Navy  Yard,  he  left  the  Bladens- 
burg  road  unprotected,  and  nothing  was  done 
towards  defending  it  till  news  reached  him  that 
the  British  General  Ross  was  actually  march- 
ing by  that  path  straight  on  to  Washington. 
Now,  indeed,  camp  was  broken,  and  in  two 
hours,  says  McMaster,  “ a motley  throng  made 
up  of  militia,  regulars,  volunteers,  sailors, 
generals,  secretaries  and  the  President,  were 
racing  across  country  to  Bladensburg.” 

The  noon  of  Wednesday,  the  twenty-fourth, 
saw  the  beginning  of  the  battle,  which  raged 
hotly  till  four  o’clock.  Madison’s  unfitness  for 
even  the  nominal  position  of  Commander-in- 
Chief  was  painfully  apparent  throughout.  One 
who  was  near  him  reports  that  he  spent  Ins 
time  writing  pencilled  notes  to  his  wife ; and 
finally,  about  two  o’clock,  in  the  midst  of  the 
battle,  he  turned  to  his  secretaries,  saying: 
“ Come,  Armstrong,  come,  Monroe,  let  us  go, 
and  leave  it  to  the  commanding  general ! ” 

Much  sport  was  afterwards  made  of  this 
retreat  of  the  President  and  his  cabinet  from 
the  field  of  battle,  and  later  from  Washington. 

171 


DOLLY  MADISON 


A New  York  paper  said  that  should  some 
Walter  Scott  in  the  next  century  arise  and 
write  a poem  on  the  Battle  of  Bladensburg,  he 
might  fittingly  conclude  with  the  lines : — 

“ Fly,  Monroe,  fly ! Run,  Armstrong,  run ! 

Were  the  last  words  of  Madison.” 

The  Washington  to  which  Madison  now  bent 
his  steps  was  a panic-stricken  village,  filled 
with  women,  children,  and  servants,  almost 
wholly  deserted  of  men,  for  every  able-bodied 
musket-bearer  was  at  the  front.  Throughout 
the  afternoon  the  booming  of  cannon  had 
echoed  from  the  battlefield  at  Bladensburg, 
only  four  miles  distant,  and  none  could  say  how 
soon  the  foe  would  have  traversed  that  short 
distance,  or  how  soon  the  British  guns  would 
be  turned  on  the  buildings  of  Washington. 

Two  very  vivid  pictures  of  the  life  at  the 
capital  in  those  trying  days,  have  been  left  us 
by  the  journal  of  Mrs.  Madison,  and  by  the 
reminiscences  of  Mr.  Madison’s  faithful  slave, 
Paul  Jennings,  a man  of  unusual  intelligence 
and  education,  who  afterwards  bought  his  free- 
dom and  remained  for  many  years  a respectable 
citizen  of  Washington. 

Mrs.  Madison’s  journal  was  kept  in  the  form 
of  a letter  to  her  sister,  and  reflects,  as  her 
writing  always  does,  every  varying  mood  of 
hope  and  fear.  It  bears  date  — 

172 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


Tuesday,  August  23,  181-1. 

Dear.  Sister,  — My  husband  left  me  yesterday 
morning  to  join  General  Winder.  He  inquired 
anxiously  whether  I had  courage  and  firmness  to 
remain  in  the  Presidential  house  till  his  return, 
and  on  my  assurance  that  I had  no  fear  but  for  him 
and  the  success  of  our  army,  he  left  me,  beseeching 
me  to  take  care  of  myself  and  of  the  cabinet  papers, 
public  and  private.  I have  since  received  two  dis- 
patches from  him,  written  with  a pencil.  The  last 
is  alarming,  because  he  desires  I should  be  ready 
at  a moment’s  warning  to  enter  my  carriage  and 
leave  the  city;  that  the  enemy  seemed  stronger 
than  had  been  reported,  and  that  it  might  happen 
that  they  would  reach  the  city  with  intention  to 
destroy  it.  ...  I am  accordingly  ready.  I have 
pressed  as  many  cabinet  papers  into  trunks  as  to 
fill  one  carriage.  Our  private  property  must  be 
sacrificed,  as  it  is  impossible  to  procure  wagons  for 
its  transportation.  I am  determined  not  to  go  my- 
self until  I see  Mr.  Madison  safe,  and  he  can  accom- 
pany me,  as  I hear  of  much  hostility  towards  him. 
. . . Disaffection  stalks  around  us.  . . . My  friends 
are  all  gone;  even  Colonel  C.,  with  his  hundred 
men,  who  were  stationed  as  a guard  in  this  inclos- 
ure. French  John  [a  faithful  domestic],  with  his 
usual  activity  and  resolution,  offers  to  spike  the 
cannon  at  the  gate,  and  to  lay  a train  of  powder 
which  would  blow  up  the  British  should  they  enter 
the  house.  To  the  last  proposition  I positively 
object,  without  being  able,  however,  to  make  him 
173 


DOLLY  MADISON 


understand  why  all  advantages  in  war  may  not  be 
taken. 

Wednesday  morning,  tivelve  o'clock.  Since  sun- 
rise I have  been  turning  my  spy-glass  in  every 
direction,  and  watching  with  unwearied  anxiety, 
hoping  to  discern  the  approach  of  my  dear  husband 
and  his  friends;  but  alas!  I can  descry  only  groups 
of  military  wandering  in  all  directions,  as  if  there 
was  a lack  of  arms  or  spirit  to  fight  for  their  own 
firesides ! 

Three  o'clock.  Will  you  believe  it,  my  sister, 
we  have  had  a battle  or  skirmish  near  Bladensburg, 
and  I am  still  here  within  sound  of  the  cannon  ! 
Mr.  Madison  comes  not.  May  God  protect  him  ! 
Two  messengers,  covered  with  dust,  come  to  bid  me 
fly;  but  I wait  for  him.  ...  At  this  late  hour  a 
wagon  has  been  procured;  I have  had  it  filled  with 
the  plate  and  most  valuable  portable  articles  belong- 
ing to  the  house.  Whether  it  will  reach  its  des- 
tination, the  Bank  of  Maryland,  or  fall  into  the 
hands  of  British  soldiery,  events  must  determine. 

Our  kind  friend,  Mr.  Carroll,  has  come  to 
hasten  my  departure,  and  is  in  a very  bad  humor 
with  me,  because  I insist  on  waiting  until  the 
large  picture  of  General  Washington  is  secured, 
and  it  requires  to  be  unscrewed  from  the  wall. 
This  process  was  found  too  tedious  for  these  per- 
ilous moments  ; I have  ordered  the  frame  to  be 
broken  and  the  canvas  taken  out.  It  is  done,  and 
the  precious  portrait  is  placed  in  the  hands  of  two 
gentlemen  of  JSTew  York  for  safe-keeping.  And 
174 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


now,  dear  sister,  I must  leave  this  house,  or  the 
retreating  army  will  make  me  a prisoner  in  it,  by 
filling  up  the  road  I am  directed  to  take.  TVhen  I 
shall  again  write  to  you,  or  where  I shall  be  to- 
morrow, I cannot  tell. 

Much  has  been  said  touching  the  episode  of 
the  saving  of  Washington’s  portrait  to  which 
Mrs.  Madison  alludes  in  this  letter,  and  a 
melodramatic  tradition  represents  her  as 
snatching  a carving-knife  from  the  table  and 
cutting  the  canvas  from  the  frame.  This  is 
absurd,  as  the  portrait  hung  so  high  that  a 
step-ladder  was  required  to  reach  it.  The 
truth  is  that  on  Tuesday  afternoon  Mr.  George 
Washington  Parke  Custis,  being  anxious  about 
the  safety  of  the  picture,  came  over  from  his 
home  at  Arlington  to  inquire  what  could  be 
done  to  secure  its  preservation.  Mrs.  Madison 
still,  perhaps,  doubting  the  pressing  danger, 
assured  him  that  it  should  be  taken  care  of, 
and  even  in  the  distraction  of  these  last  ago- 
nizingly anxious  moments,  she  was  true  to  the 
promise  she  had  made.  John  Siousa,  known 
as  “French  John,”  the  door-keeper  at  the 
White  House,  and  Magrau,  the  gardener,  broke 
the  frame  on  the  dining-room  wall  as  their 
mistress  directed,  secured  the  treasured  por- 
trait, and  despatched  it  to  a house  near  George- 
town in  a wagon,  in  which  were  also  stored 


DOLLY  MALISON 


some  great  silver  urns  and  other  valuables  of 
large  bulk. 

This  task  accomplished,  Mrs.  Madison  turned 
her  thoughts  to  the  method  of  that  flight 
which  her  husband’s  pencilled  notes  urged 
upon  her  as  immediately  and  urgently  neces- 
sary. How  unexpected  the  emergency  was 
may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  a dinner- 
party was  planned  for  the  same  afternoon  at 
the  White  House,  and  the  wines  and  viands 
were  actually  demolished  by  the  British  officers 
on  their  arrival. 

Paul  J ennings  says : — 

“ On  that  very  morning  Gen.  Armstrong  assured 
Mrs.  Madison  there  was  no  danger.  The  President, 
with  Gen.  Armstrong,  Gen.  Winder,  Col.  Monroe, 
et  ah,  rode  out  on  horseback  to  Bladensburg  to  see 
how  things  looked.  Mrs.  Madison  ordered  dinner  to 
be  ready  at  three  o’clock,  as  usual.  I set  the  table 
myself,  and  brought  up  the  ale,  cider,  and  wine  and 
placed  them  in  the  coolers,  as  all  the  Cabinet  and 
several  military  gentlemen  and  strangers  were  ex- 
pected. While  waiting,  at  just  about  three,  as 
Sukey,  the  house-servant,  was  lolling  out  of  a 
chamber  window,  James  Smith,  a colored  man  who 
had  accompanied  Mr.  Madison  to  Bladensburg,  gal- 
loped up  to  the  house,  waving  his  hat,  and  cried 
out : ‘ Clear  out,  clear  out  ! General  Armstrong  has 
ordered  a retreat.’ 


176 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


“All  then  was  confusion.  Mrs.  Madison  ordered 
her  carriage,  and  passing  through  the  dining-room, 
caught  up  what  she  could  crowd  into  her  old-fash- 
ioned reticule,  and  then  jumped  into  the  chariot 
with  her  servant-girl,  Sukey,  and  Daniel  Carrol, 
who  took  charge  of  them.  Jo.  Bolin  drove  them 
over  to  Georgetown  heights.  The  British  were  ex- 
pected in  a few  minutes.  Mr.  Cutts,  her  brother- 
in-law,  sent  me  to  a stable  on  14th  St.  for  his 
carriage.  People  were  running  in  every  direction. 
John  Freeman  [the  colored  butler]  drove  off  in  the 
coachee  with  his  wife,  child,  and  servant;  also  a 
feather-bed  lashed  on  behind  the  coachee,  which  was 
all  the  furniture  saved.  - — - 

“Mrs.  Madison  slept  that  night  at  Mrs.  Love’s, 
two  or  three  miles  over  the  river.  After  leaving 
that  place,  she  called  in  at  a house  and  went  up- 
stairs. The  lady  of  the  house,  learning  who  she 
was,  became  furious,  and  went  to  the  stairs  and 
screamed  out:  ‘Mrs.  Madison,  if  that’s  you,  come 
down  and  go  out ! Your  husband  has  got  mine 

out  fighting,  and  d you  you  sha’n’t  stay  in 

my  house.  So  get  out.’  Mrs.  Madison  com- 
plied, and  went  to  Mrs.  Minor’s,  a few  miles 
further  on.” 

The  opposition  journals  who  made  merry 
over  Madison’s  retreat  found  equal  food  for 
mirth  in  his  wife’s  hasty  departure  from  the 
White  House,  and  a parody  of  John  Gilpin  set 
forth  her  supposed  address  to  her  husband : — 
12  177 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ Sister  Cutts  and  Cutts  and  I 
And  Cutts’s  children  three 
Will  fill  the  coach,  — and  you  must  ride 
On  horseback  after  we.” 

It  was  easy  in  the  light  of  after  events  to 
see  the  fun  of  that  broad  farce,  that  comedy  of 
errors  in  which  the  armies  of  the  two  bravest 
nations  on  earth  were  scurrying  away  from 
each  other,  — the  head  of  the  American  people 
hurrying  away  from  one  hiding-place  to 
another,  while  the  British  admiral  retreated 
from  the  enemy’s  capital,  as  Cockburn  did  on 
the  next  night,  in  dismay  at  a thunder-storm. 
But  at  the  time  there  was  little  enough  of 
comedy  in  the  situation  to  any  of  those  who 
shared  its  anxiety  and  its  perils  real  or  fan- 
cied. It  must  be  said  that  none  of  the  promi- 
nent figures  appear  to  so  much  advantage 
under  the  trying  circumstances  as  Mrs.  Mad- 
ison. Had  her  husband  shown  as  much  cool- 
ness and  good  judgment,  a disgraceful  episode 
might  have  been  omitted  from  our  national 
history. 

A few  hours  after  the  President  and  his  wife 
had  quitted  the  capital  Ross  and  Cockburn, 
the  British  commanders,  entered  the  city  at 
the  head  of  their  troops,  and  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  wreak  their  vengeance  by  setting  fire 
to  the  Capitol.  The  old  story  represented 
178 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


Cockburn  as  jumping  upon  the  Speaker’s  chair 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  shouting, 
“Shall  this  harbor  of  Yankee  democracy  be 
burned  ? All  for  it  will  say  ‘ Ay.  ’ ” And  at 
the  chorus  of  “ Ays,  ” the  torch  was  applied. 
It  is  a picturesque  story,  but  unfortunately 
without  foundation. 

The  flames  at  the  Capitol,  however,  mounted 
as  high  as  though  they  had  been  set  by  formal 
vote,  and  by  their  lurid  light  the  British 
soldiers  marched  along  the  two  miles  of  Penn- 
sylvania Avenue  that  lay  between  the  burning 
building  and  the  President’s  mansion.  At 
the  White  House,  much  to  their  satisfaction, 
the  officers  found  the  bountiful  feast  set  by 
Paul  Jennings  awaiting  them.  Of  this  they 
partook  freely  before  devoting  the  house  to  the 
same  fate  which  had  overtaken  the  Capitol. 
The  rooms  having  been  ransacked,  and  the 
wine-cellar  robbed  of  thousands  of  dollars’ 
worth  of  wine,  the  furniture  was  piled  together 
in  the  drawing-room  and  fired  by  a coal  secured 
from  a neighboring  tavern.  The  nest  build- 
ings to  fall  victims  were  the  United  States 
Treasury  and  the  office  of  the  “National  In- 
telligencer,” the  editor  of  which  had  been 
specially  severe  in  denouncing  Cockburn.  The 
fires  lighted  up  the  midnight  sky  till  the  red 
glare  could  be  seen  for  many  miles. 

179 


DOLLY  MADISON 


On  Wednesday  afternoon  Mrs.  Madison,  after 
having  seen  her  husband  for  a short  time,  had 
parted  from  him  with  many  misgivings  for  his 
safety,  he  making  his  way  to  the  Virginia 
shore,  and  she  to  the  house  of  a friend  in 
Georgetown.  Before  daybreak  on  Thursday 
Mrs.  Madison  and  her  little  train  left  this 
house,  which  had  sheltered  them  for  the  night, 
and  set  forth  on  the  road  to  meet  her  hus- 
band at  the  place  which  he  had  appointed. 
She  was  met  with  all  the  insult  which  Paul 
Jennings  describes,  and  was  likely  to  spend 
the  night  without  a shelter,  but  at  the  approach 
of  a thunder-storm  the  hard  heart  of  the  inn- 
keeper softened,  and  Mrs.  Madison  was  allowed 
the  poor  privilege  of  sheltering  her  head  under 
this  rude  roof.  Here  at  length  on  Thursday 
night  Mr.  Madison  appeared  pale  and  tired, 
but  safe,  and  then  nothing  could  disturb  his 
wife  further.  Despite  cold  and  hunger  and 
danger  and  insult  she  was  happy. 

Even  this  comfort,  however,  was  soon  shaken, 
for  scarcely  had  the  President  fallen  into  a 
sleep  of  utter  exhaustion,  when  a breathless 
messenger  came  flying  up  to  the  tavern  with 
the  warning  that  the  British  had  discovered 
his  place  of  concealment  and  were  upon  his 
track.  Once  more  he  was  compelled  to  en- 
counter the  pitiless,  pelting  storm,  and  to  take 
180 


THE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


refuge  in  a roughly-built  hut  in  the  forest, 
where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  this  wretched 
night. 

On  Friday  morning  Mrs.  Madison,  having, 
according  to  a promise  to  her  husband,  adopted 
a disguise,  started  forth  in  a little  wagon 
under  the  guard  of  a civilian  and  a single 
soldier.  But  on  their  way  they  were  met  by 
the  joyful  news  that  the  British,  awe-struck 
by  the  fearful  tornado  which  had  followed 
their  conflagration,  and  affrighted  by  vague 
rumors  of  renewed  attacks  by  the  Americans, 
had  withdrawn  from  Washington. 

It  must  have  been  at  this  point  that  Mrs. 
Madison  received  the  letter  from  her  husband 
which  is  to  be  found  in  a fragmentary  condi- 
tion among  the  Madison  Papers.  The  date  is 
torn  off,  and  the  writing  begins  abruptly : — 

I cannot  yet  learn  wbat  lias  been  the  result. 
Should  the  port  have  been  taken,  the  British  ships 
with  their  barges  will  be  able  to  throw  the  city 
again  into  alarm,  and  you  may  be  again  compelled 
to  retire  from  it,  which  I find  would  have  a disagree- 
able effect.  Should  the  Ships  have  failed  in  their 

attack,  you  can  not  return  too  soon.  [Torn] 

keep  Freeman  till  the  question  is  decided,  and  then 
lose  no  time  in  sending  him  to  You.  In  the  mean 
time  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  remain  in  your  pres- 
ent quarters.  I wrote  you  yesterday  morning  by 
181 


DOLLY  MADISON 


express,  from  Brookeville,  and  at  tlie  same  time  to 
the  Sec?',  of  the  Navy,  supposing  you  all  to  be  to- 
gether. It  is  possible  the  separation  may  have 
prevented  your  receiving  the  letter.  I returned  to 
the  city  yesterday,  in  company  with  Mr.  Monroe, 
Mr.  Kush,  &c.,  and  have  summoned  the  Heads  of 
Dept,  to  meet  here  without  delay.  Inclosed  is  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Cutts.  My  next  will  be  by  Free- 
man, & as  soon  as  I can  decide  the  points  of  your 
coming  on. 

Ever  & most  affy.  yours, 

J.  M. 

With  lightened  hearts  the  fugitives  turned 
about  and  began  their  journey  of  twenty  miles 
or  more  back  to  the  capital.  When  they  reached 
the  long  bridge  at  the  Virginia  shore  of  the 
Potomac  they  found  it  impassable,  having 
been  burned  at  either  end.  At  first  they  were 
denied  passage  in  the  only  boat  which  plied 
across  the  river,  till  at  length  they  suc- 
ceeded in  making  themselves  known  to  the 
officer  in  charge,  when  the  party  was  ferried 
over,  and  Mrs.  Madison  entered  Washington 
to  find  the  house  which  she  had  left  only 
forty-eight  hours  before,  a smoking  ruin.  Her 
sister  Anna’s  house  became  her  temporary 
home,  and  here  the  President  joined  her  not 
to  separate  from  her  again. 

Before  a fortnight  had  passed  the  burning 
182 


TEE  BURNING  OF  WASHINGTON 


of  Washington  was  avenged  by  the  death  of 
the  invading  commander,  the  repulse  of  the 
English  troops  at  Baltimore,  the  British  defeat 
at  Plattsburg,  and  the  surrender  of  the  fleet 
on  Lake  Champlain.  In  the  English  Parlia- 
ment the  burning  of  the  American  capital  was 
stigmatized  as  “ of  any  enterprise  recorded  in 
the  annals  of  war,  the  one  which  most  exas- 
perated the  people  and  least  weakened  the 
government.  ” 


183 


X 


PEACE 

“ Peace  ! Peace ! Peace ! ” The  bells  rang-  it 
from  the  church-steeples ; the  cannon  boomed 
it  from  the  embrasures  of  the  forts ; the 
candles  blazed  it  out  into  the  night  from  every 
window-pane  of  cottage  and  mansion.  After 
nearly  three  years  of  war  the  United  States 
and  Great  Britain  were  to  be  friends  once 
more.  No  sooner  had  the  sloop-of-war  “Fav- 
orite,” bearing  Mr.  Carroll  the  peace-messen- 
ger, touched  the  wharf  at  New  York  than  the 
good  news  spread  like  wild-fire  all  over  the 
country,  and  everywhere  was  greeted  with 
tumultuous  rejoicings. 

At  Newport  the  military  paraded,  and  Thames 
Street  was  a blaze  of  color,  wherein  banners 
of  red,  white,  and  blue  were  blended  with  the 
red  flags  of  England.  The  village  of  Pough- 
keepsie was  illuminated  from  end  to  end. 
Every  alley  and  lane  in  Baltimore  showed 
candles  in  the  windows.  Boston  and  New 
York  and  Philadelphia  were  one  blaze  of  bon- 
1S1 


PEACE 


fires  and  illuminations.  But  it  was  at  Wash- 
ington, where  the  greatest  gloom  and  anxiety 
had  prevailed,  that  the  wildest  reaction  of  joy 
now  displayed  itself.  National  salutes  were 
fired.  The  public  buildings  were  draped  with 
flags,  and  at  night  the  general  illumination 
and  the  glare  of  rockets  lighted  up  the  sky 
which  six  months  before  had  reflected  the 
flames  of  the  Capitol  and  the  White  House. 
That  White  House  was  still  a charred  and 
blackened  ruin  not  to  be  restored  till  Dolly 
Madison  had  ceased  to  be  entitled  to  do  its 
honors. 

The  tidings  of  the  peace  fQund  her  estab- 
lished at  the  Tayloe  Mansion,  generally  called 
from  its  peculiar  form  “The  Octagon,”  situated 
at  the  corner  of  Eighteenth  Street  and  New 
York  Avenue,  and  commanding  a charming 
view  of  the  Potomac  and  the  heights  of  Ar- 
lington. This  house  was,  of  course,  the  very 
centre  of  all  the  joyous  excitement. 

One  who  shai’ed  the  rejoicings  within  its 
walls  thus  describes  the  delight  with  which 
the  news  of  peace  was  received  there : — • 

“Late  in  the  afternoon  came  thundering  down 
Pennsylvania  Avenue  a coach  and  four  foaming 
steeds,  in  which  was  the  hearer  of  the  good  news. 
Cheers  followed  the  carriage  as  it  sped  on  its  way 
185 


DOLLY  MADISON 


to  the  residence  of  the  President.  Soon  after  night- 
fall, members  of  Congress  and  others  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  event  presented  themselves  at  the 
President’s  house,  the  doors  of  which  stood  open. 
When  the  writer  of  this  entered  the  drawing-room 
at  about  eight  o’clock,  it  was  crowded  to  its  full 
capacity,  Mrs.  Madison  (the  President  being  with 
the  Cabinet)  doing  the  honors  of  the  occasion.  And 
what  a happy  scene  it  was!  Among  the  members 
present  were  gentlemen  of  opposite  politics,  but 
lately  arrayed  against  one  another  in  continual 
conflict  and  fierce  debate,  now  with  elated  spirits 
thanking  God,  and  with  softened  hearts  cordially 
felicitating  one  another  upon  the  joyful  intelli- 
gence which  (should  the  terms  of  the  treaty  prove 
acceptable)  should  re-establish  peace.  Put  the 
most  conspicuous  object  in  the  room,  the  observed 
of  all  observers,  was  Mrs.  Madison  herself,  then  in 
the  meridian  of  life  and  queenly  beauty.  She  was 
in  her  person,  for  the  moment,  the  representative 
of  the  feelings  of  him  who  was  in  grave  consulta- 
tion with  his  official  advisers.  No  one  could  doubt, 
who  beheld  the  radiance  of  joy  which  lighted  up 
her  countenance  and  diffused  its  beams  around, 
that  all  uncertainty  was  at  an  end,  and  that  the 
government  of  the  country  had,  in  very  truth  (to 
use  an  expression  of  Mr.  Adams  on  a very  different 
occasion),  ‘ passed  from  gloom  to  glory.’  With  a 
grace  all  her  own,  to  her  visitors  she  reciprocated 
heartfelt  congratulations  upon  the  glorious  and 
happy  change  in  the  aspect  of  public  affairs;  dis- 
186 


PEACE 


pensing  with  liberal  hand  to  every  individual  in 
the  large  assembly  the  proverbial  hospitalities  of 
that  house.” 

Not  even  the  servants  were  forgotten  in  the 
general  merry-making.  Miss  Sally  Coles,  a 
cousin  of  Mrs.  Madison’s,  who  afterward 
married  Andrew  Stevenson,  Minister  to 
Russia,  rushed  to  the  head  of  the  basement 
stairs,  shouting,  “Peace!  peace!”  John 
Freeman,  the  butler,  was  ordered  to  serve  out 
wine  freely  in  the  servants’  hall.  Paul  Jen- 
nings played  the  “President’s  March”  on  his 
fiddle.  French  John  drank  enough  to  render 
him  unfit  for  active  service  for  several  days, 
and  all  the  woes  and  hardships  of  the  past 
were  foi'gotten. 

A few  evenings  later  a grand  concert  was 
given  by  “Seignior  Pucci,”  under  the  patron- 
age of  the  prominent  society  leaders  of  Wash- 
ington, “on  the  much  admired  and  fashionable 
King  David’s  pedal  harp,”  on  which  were  per- 
formed a series  of  selections  adapted  to  the 
state  of  the  public  mind,  and  including  “Jack- 
son’s March,”  “ Decatur’s  Favorite,”  and  a med- 
ley of  national  airs  of  England  and  America. 

The  poets,  who,  from  their  corner  of  the 
daily  and  weekly  journals,  had  been  hurling 
literary  bombs  at  Great  Britain  and  her 
187 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“minions”  for  months,  now  of  a sudden 
tuned  their  verses  to  piping  notes  of  peace, 
and  began  to  assure  their  brethren  across  the 
water  that  they  did  not  think  so  badly  of  them 
after  all. 

One  of  these  bards  writes  jovially : — 


“ Ileave  to,  my  old  ship-mate  ! let ’s  capsize  a can 
To  the  peace  that  they ’ve  made  there  among  ’em  at  Ghent ; 
Tho’  we  care  not  for  war,  yet  there  is  not  a man 
Who  won’t  drink  to  the  Peace,  till  his  rhino  is  spent ! 

“Then  here ’s  to  us  both  ! We’ve  fair  wind  and  fair  weather. 
Let  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  be  furled  ; 

We  will  splice  the  old  cross  and  our  bunting  together 
And  ride  every  wave  and  defy  all  the  world.” 

Amid  the  universal  joy,  the  official  blunders 
of  the  President  were  forgotten,  if  not  for- 
given, and  he  found  himself  restored  to  all  his 
old-time  popularity,  which  endured  even  when 
the  Treaty  of  Ghent  was  made  public,  and 
found  less  gratifying  than  had  at  first  been 
hoped.  But  more  truly  than  ever  was  it  said 
that  Dolly  Madison  was  the  most  popular 
person  in  the  United  States.  She  was  beloved 
by  high  and  low  alike.  The  soldiers,  march- 
ing gladly  home  from  their  long  enlistment, 
stopped  to  cheer  before  her  house.  Her  recep- 
tions were  more  brilliant  than  those  of  old 
days  in  the  White  House,  and  the  gayeties  of 


PEACE 


tlie  “Peace  Winter”  were  recalled  for  years 
in  the  annals  of  Washington. 

“The  Octagon”  still  stands  among  the  his- 
toric houses  of  the  capital,  a symbol  of  the 
past,  which  the  tide  of  fashion  has  swept  by 
and  left  stranded  like  its  neighbor,  the  Yan 
Ness  mansion,  hemmed  in  by  business  blocks 
and  public  buildings.  Its  walls  are  dilapi- 
dated, its  rooms  bare  of  furniture,  yet  they 
possess  a dignity  and  quaint  elegance  and 
refinement  which  make  the  modern  splendors 
of  the  West  End  seem  somewhat  garish  and 
newly  rich. 

The  house,  which,  by  the  way,  is  endeared 
to  the  popular  heart  by  the  rumor  of  being 
“haunted,”  was  built  by  Colonel  Tayloe,  of 
Mount  Airy,  Virginia,  before  the  end  of  the 
last  century.  It  is  of  brick.  Its  pillared 
portico,  adorned  with  delicate  traceries,  leads 
to  a circular  vestibule,  from  which  opens 
a second  hall  in  which  a white  staircase 
winds  upward  through  three  stories.  On 
the  right  of  this  hall  is  the  drawing-room, 
before  whose  quaintly  carved  wooden  mantel 
Mrs.  Madison  was  accustomed  to  stand  to 
receive  her  guests,  the  gowned  justices,  the 
foreigners  gorgeous  in  court  costume,  and  the 
brilliantly  uniformed  officers.  To  the  left  is 
the  dining-room  opening  directly  across  from 
189 


DOLLY  MADISON 


the  parlor.  On  the  floor  above  in  the  front 
of  the  house  over  the  vestibule  is  a charming 
circular  boudoir,  which  suggests  the  pouting 
beauties  of  Watteau,  sconces  and  spinets,  blue- 
ribboned crooks  and  flowery  banks  whereon 
painted  shepherdesses  recline  in  impossible 
attitudes.  But  instead  of  all  this  the  walls, 
hung  with  maps  and  engineers’  drawings, 
looked  down  on  the  grave  faces  of  Madison 
and  his  cabinet,  who  here  met  habitually,  and 
here  also  signed  the  famous  Treaty  of  Ghent. 

From  the  bedroom  beside  the  boudoir  I 
looked  out  upon  the  tree-tops  and  across  the 
wide-stretching  Potomac,  and  fancied  how 
often  Mi’s.  Madison  must  have  looked  over  the 
same  shining  water  to  the  same  blue  heights 
beyond,  where  lay  the  beloved  Virginia  toward 
which  her  thoughts  turned  longingly  even  in 
these  happy  days  which  crowned  the  ending  of 
her  official  life.  Before  they  had  done  with 
Washington  life,  however,  the  Madisons  made 
still  another  move  from  the  Tayloe  mansion 
to  the  two  houses  forming  the  corner  of  the 
Seven  Buildings  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue, 
where  all  the  brilliant  hospitalities  of  “The 
Octagon  ” were  continued  and  even  surpassed. 

Here  the  President  entertained  General 
Andrew  Jackson  and  his  wife.  The  hero  of 
New  Orleans  became  at  once  the  chief  lion  of 
190 


PEACE 


Washington  society,  and  many  dinners  were 
given  in  his  honor  at  the  President’s  house. 
The  most  prominent  people  of  Washington 
made  haste  to  pay  him  respect,  and  his  stay  at 
the  capital  was  marked  by  a series  of  balls 
and  levees,  at  which  the  General  appeared 
somewhat  awkward  and  ill  at  ease ; but  the 
rough  exterior  and  uncouth  manners  of  Jack- 
son  comported  better  with  the  soldier  just 
from  the  frontier  than  afterward  with  the 
President  of  the  United  States. 

In  many  respects,  the  manners  of  those  days 
were  not  those  of  our  time,  — better,  perhaps, 
in  some  directions,  worse  in  others.  It  is  told, 
for  instance,  of  Mrs.  Madison  that,  meeting 
Henry  Clay  at  one  of  these  receptions,  she 
offered  him  her  snuff-box,  made  of  platinum 
and  delicately  tinted  lava ; and  that  when  she 
herself  had  taken  a pinch  and  applied  it  to  her 
nostrils,  she  drew  out  a large  bandanna  hand- 
kerchief, remarking  that  she  kept  that  for 
“rough  work,”  while  the  dainty  wisp  of  lawn 
and  lace,  wherewith  she  afterward  dusted  the 
tip  of  her  pretty  nose,  was  her  “polisher.” 
Other  times,  other  customs ; but  none  the  less, 
Dolly  Madison  was  a very  great  lady  as  well 
as  a very  great  belle ; and  Sir  Charles  Bagot, 
who  came  over  after  the  peace  as  Special 
Ambassador  from  Great  Britain,  and  who  was 
191 


DOLLY  MADISON 


well  acquainted  with  the  court  dames  of 
Europe,  pronounced  her  “every  inch  a queen.” 

The  fashions  of  that  early  time  seem  as 
strange  to  us  as  the  manners.  In  the  “ Ladies’ 
Weekly  Museum,”  published  in  New  York,  in 
1817,  and  claiming  to  be  “a  Polite  Reposi- 
tory of  Amusement  and  Instruction,  Being 
an  Assemblage  of  Whatever  can  interest  the 
mind  or  exalt  the  character  of  the  American 
Fair,”  I read,  between  the  columns  of  mild 
poetry  and  still  milder  philosophy,  a descrip- 
tion of  an  astonishing  walking  costume,  con- 
sisting of  a “Round  dress  of  fine  cambric, 
under  a pelisse  of  emerald-green  reps  sarsnet, 
ornamented  and  faced  with  flutings  of  green 
and  white  satin,  elegantly  finished  by  British 
silk  trimmings,  and  waist  girt  by  a rich  silk 
cordon  of  the  same  manufacture  with  full 
tassels ; bonnet  of  green  curled  silk,  the  crown 
and  ornaments  of  white  satin  and  emerald- 
green  to  corresponcT with  the  pelisse ; green 
satin  half-boots  and  Limerick  gloves;  Berlin 
ridicule  of  green  and  white  satin.” 

The  design  of  this  chaste  and  tasteful  emer- 
ald costume  originated  in  England,  but  the 
French  toilettes  of  the  time  are  even  gayer. 
A correspondent  who  professes  to  write  from 
Paris,  but  who  shows  himself,  or  herself, 
somewhat  uncertain  as  to  the  spelling  of  the 
192 


PEACE 


Parisian  palace,  writes:  “Nearly  all  the  hats 
lately  exhibited  in  the  purlieus  of  the  Thuil- 
leries  are  of  crape.  Some  are  green,  with 
puffing  in  the  front,  while  others  are  of  citron 
color,  but  ornamented  with  lilies  and  yellow 
wall-flowers.  The  large  Nepolitan  hats  are  of 
blended  utrite  and  lilac,  or  entirely  the  latter 
color,  with  much  white  embroidery,  and  a few 
grapes  and  lilies  intermingled,  about  three 
of  each  imitation.  Some  young  fashionables 
sport  scarlet  under-waistcoats  with  a black 
upper;  but  white  upper  waistcoats  Avith  a 
scarlet  under  one  are  most  frequently 
exhibited.” 

Mrs.  Madison  herself,  daughter  of  the 
Quakers  as  she  was,  shared  the  universal 
love  of  gay  coloi's  and  brilliant  effects.  Per- 
chance the  enforced  plainness  of  her  youth 
had  rather  stimulated  the  passion  for  dress, 
and  the  gorgeousness  of  her  later  costumes 
marked  a protest  and  a re-action.  The  Presi- 
dent, in  contrast  with  his  wife,  in  her  fine 
raiment  and  finer  spirits,  must  have  looked 
doubly  sober. 

Sullivan,  whose  Familiar  Letters  on  Public 
Characters  throw  much  light  on  the  times, 
says  of  him,  that  at  the  close  of  his  second 
term  he  made  the  impression  of  “a  care- 
worn man,  and  seemed  by  his  face  to  have 
13  193 


DOLLY  MADISON 


attained  to  a more  advanced  age  than  was 
the  fact.  He  had  a calm  expression,  a pene- 
trating blue  eye,  and  looked  like  a think- 
ing man.  He  was  dressed  in  black,  bald  on 
the  top  of  his  head,  powdered,  of  rather  pro- 
tuberant person  in  front,  small  lower  limbs, 
slow  and  grave  of  speech.” 

Although  he  had  escaped  with  surprisingly 
little  loss  of  prestige  from  the  consequences  of 
his  mistakes,  he  must  have  felt  that  his 
administration  had  not  been  all  he  had  hoped 
to  make  it  when  he  entered  upon  the  office. 
The  enthusiasm  of  the  nation  over  the  peace 
had  subsided  from  its  first  warmth  to  chill 
when  it  was  found  that  the  treaty  was  silent 
on  all  the  chief  points  which  the  government 
had  declared  necessary  to  the  well-being  and 
even  the  self-respect  of  the  United  States. 
The  toasts  of  “Peace  and  Plenty,”  which  had 
been  drunk  at  every  dinner-table  in  the  win- 
ter of  1815,  grew  less  and  less  frequent,  and 
men  began  to  talk  gravely  of  taxes  and  tariff 
laws.  When  first  the  “ Madison’s  Night  Caps  ” 
were  lifted  from  the  masts,  shouts  greeted 
their  removal  ; the  tar  barrels  were  made 
into  bonfires  along  the  wharves,  and  all  the 
world  cried  out  that  the  end  of  all  hardships 
for  merchants  and  shipbuilders  was  at  hand; 
but  before  the  year  was  over,  the  merchants 
194 


PEACE 


found  Great  Britain  again  shutting  American 
ships  out  of  the  West  Indian  trade,  and  break- 
ing down  American  manufactures  till  Ameri- 
can ^hip-building  became  a thing  of  the  past, 
and  American  merchants  found  ruin  staring 
them  in  the  face. 

During  the  last  two  years  of  his  administra- 
tion Madison  strove  diligently  to  heal  the 
wounds  which  the  war  had  inflicted  on  the 
country’s  credit.  How  great  was  the  need  of 
a reformation  of  the  national  banking  system 
may  be  inferred  from  the  experience  of  a man, 
who,  at  the  close  of  the  war  of  1812,  carried 
to  a Pennsylvania  bank  a roll  of  bills  issued 
by  that  institution.  He  demanded  gold  or 
silver  in  exchange  for  them,  but  was  told  that 
the  bank  declined  to  pay  gold  or  silver. 
“Then,”  said  he,  “give  me  bills  of  the  United 
States  bank.”  “We  have  not  any,”  answered 
the  cashier.  “Ah  ! ” said  the  applicant,  “then 
I will  take  bills  on  any  bank  in  New  England. 
None  of  those  ? Then  kindly  pay  me  in  the 
best  counterfeit  bills  you  have . ” 

All  this  was  changed  before  Madison  went 
out  of  office,  and  a national  bank  was  cre- 
ated on  a sound  basis.  The  war  too  had  not 
been  without  its  benefits,  almost  worth  its 
cost.  It  had  done  more  than  twenty  years  of 
peace  to  unite  and  solidify  the  nation.  It  had 
195 


DOLLY  MADISON 


produced  the  national  anthem  of  the  Star- 
Spang’led  Banner,  which,  if  we  may  believe 
Fletcher  of  Saltoun,  was  a more  important 
matter  than  all  the  legislation  of  Congress, 
and  it  had  bequeathed  a cluster  of  sayings 
which  went  at  once  to  the  popular  heart,  and 
are  likely  long  to  survive  in  the  popular 
memoi-y,  — “Don’t  give  up  the  ship;”  “Our 
country  right  or  wrong;”  “We  have  met  the 
enemy  and  they  are  ours;  ” and  to  these  might 
be  added  the  epigrams  of  the  Abbe  Correa, 
Minister  to  this  country  from  Portugal,  in 
1816.  He  it  was  who  called  Washington  “the 
City  of  Magnificent  Distances,”  and  said  that 
“Providence  takes  care  of  idiots,  drunkards, 
and  the  United  States.” 

With  the  spring  of  1817  Madison’s  term 
came  to  an  end,  and  as  the  fourth  of  March, 
which  was  to  see  Monroe  installed  as  his  suc- 
cessor, drew  near,  the  Madisons  began  to 
prepare  for  departure  with  mingled  feelings 
of  relief  and  regret.  Montpellier  promised 
rest  and  refreshment  after  long  struggle  and 
turmoil ; but  the  intimate  friendships  of  six- 
teen years  were  now  to  be  severed,  and  a fare- 
well must  be  said  by  James  Madison  and  his 
wife  to  the  scenes  which  had  witnessed  the 
best  and  the  worst  that  life  could  offer  them. 
Such  a farewell  is  not  uttered  without  pro- 
196 


PEACE 


found  emotion,  and  their  feeling  was  most 
earnestly  reciprocated  by  those  whom  they  left 
behind,  who  had  for  so  long  a time  walked  and 
worked  by  their  side. 

A letter  written  at  this  moment  by  Jndge 
William  Johnson  of  the  United  States  Supreme 
Court  is  touching  from  its  evident  genuineness 
of  feeling  peeping  through  all  the  stiff  verbiage 
of  the  day  like  a rose  in  an  Italian  garden : 

Washington,  1817. 

I am  this  moment  on  the  eve  of  leaving  Wash- 
ington, and  shall  leave  it  without  a parting  inter- 
view with  one  whom  I must  he  indulged  in  the 
liberty  of  comprising  among  the  most  respected  and 
most  cherished  of  my  friends.  But  you,  madam, 
cannot  mistake  the  feelings  which  dictate  to  me  this 
mode  of  making  you  an  humble  tender  of  a most 
affectionate  adieu. 

You  are  now  about  to  enter  upon  the  enjoyment 
of  the  most  enviable  state  which  can  fall  to  the  lot 
of  mankind — - to  carry  with  you  to  your  retirement 
the  blessings  of  all  who  ever  knew  you.  Think 
not,  madam,  that  I address  to  you  the  language  of 
flattery.  It  is  what  no  one  but  yourself  would  hes- 
itate at  conceding.  And  be  assured  that  all  who 
have  ever  enjoyed  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance, 
will  long  remember  that  polite  condescension  which 
never  failed  to  encourage  the  diffident,  that  suavity 
of  manner  which  tempted  the  morose  or  thoughtful 
197 


DOLLY  MADLSON 


to  be  cheerful,  or  that  benevolence  of  aspect  which 
suffered  no  one  to  turn  from  you  without  an  emotion 
of  gratitude. 

Permit,  madam,  one  who  has  shared  his  due 
proportion  of  your  attentions  to  make  you  a sincere 
tender  of  the  most  heartfelt  gratitude  and  respect, 
and  to  wish  that  you  may  long  enjoy  every  bless- 
ing that  Heaven  dispenses  to  the  meritorious. 

Do  me  the  favor  to  tender  to  Mr.  Madison 
also  a respectful  adieu,  and  a cordial  and  sincerely 
friendly  one  to  your  son. 

Very  respectfully, 

William  Johnson,  Jr. 

Another  elaborate  tribute  of  respect  to  the 
ex-President  and  bis  wife  was  paid  by  the 
elegant  Mr.  Dawson,  who  wrote  : — 

Washington,  March  13th,  1817. 

It  is  with  the  hope  that  I may  be  permitted, 
without  the  imputation  of  vanity,  to  convey  in  this 
manner  to  Mt  & M-s  Madison,  upon  their  retiring 
to  the  pleasing  scenes  of  private  life,  my  most  sin- 
cere wishes  that  they  may  both  long  enjoy  every 
felicity  which  this  world  can  possibly  afford,  and 
to  beg  they  will  have  the  goodness  to  be  assured 
that  although  I have  not  on  particular  occasions 
mingled  with  the  numbers  who,  by  personal  attend- 
ance, might  be  supposed  in  that  way  to  testify 
their  respect,  yet,  so  far  as  an  obscure  individ- 
198 


PEACE 


ual  may  presume,  I cannot  yield  an  iota  of  that 
respect,  even  to  the  most  assiduous. 

I have  the  honor  to  be,  with  every  sentiment  of 
respect,  M-  & M”  Madison’s  very  obedi  humble 
Servl, 

Joshua  Dawson. 

Accompanied  thus  by  compliments  and  kind 
wishes  and  loving  thoughts,  Mrs.  Madison 
took  leave  of  the  city  of  Washington.  Her 
memory  did  not  pass  away  with  her  presence 
from  the  capital.  In  the  year  following  her 
departure  from  Washington  the  “Portfolio,” 
edited  by  “ Oliver  Oldschool,  ” offered  its 
readers  a number  “ embellished  ” with  a por- 
trait of  Mrs.  Madison,  and  opening  with  a 
sketch  (an  exceedingly  sketchy  sketch)  of  her 
life.  In  this,  as  in  Judge  Johnson’s  letter, 
we  find  the  ornate  periods,  the  long  words 
and  formal  compliments  wherewith  our  an- 
cestors loved  to  decorate  their  writing,  yet 
its  tribute  is  genuine  and  its  estimate  not 
unjust. 

It  begins  in  stately  fashion,  using  the 
editorial  plural : — 

“We  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  some  years 
ago,  on  the  occasion  of  a splendid  fete,  which  was 
given  by  his  excellency,  M.  Daschkoff,  the  minister 
from  Russia,  in  honour  of  the  natal  day  of  his  sover- 
eign. We  remarked  the  ease  with  which  she  glided 
199 


DOLLY  MADISON 


into  the  stream  of  conversation  and  accommodated 
herself  to  its  endless  variety.  In  the  art  of  con- 
versation she  is  said  to  he  distinguished,  and  it  be- 
came evident,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  that  the 
gladness  which  played  in  the  countenances  of  those 
whom  she  approached  was  inspired  by  something 
more  than  mere  respect.  We  fear  that  our  artists 
have  not  presented  an  adequate  representation  of 
the  features  of  this  lady.  [They  certainly  have 
not,  for  the  portrait  represents  a thick-nosed,  bare- 
necked woman,  with  an  artificial  smile,  and  an  ex- 
pression of  eye  closely  approaching  a wink,  only 
recognizable  as  Mrs.  Madison  from  the  inevitable 
turban  and  the  little  curls  about  the  forehead.] 
“We  have  not  forgotten  how  admirably  the  air 
of  authority  wras  softened  by  the  smile  of  gayety: 
and  it  is  pleasing  to  recall  a certain  expression  that 
must  have  been  created  by  the  happiest  of  all  dis- 
positions, — a wish  to  please,  and  a willingness  to 
be  pleased.  This,  indeed,  is  to  be  truly  good  and 
really  great.  Like  a summer’s  sun  she  rose  in 
our  political  horizon,  gloriously,  and  she  sunk, 
benignly.” 


200 


XI 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 

The  old  post-road  from  Washington  to  the 
South  leads  through  a series  of  shabby  little 
towns,  over  a rolling  country,  now  stretching 
its  bridges  over  runs  and  rivers,  and  anon 
winding  through  fields  of  grain  and  tobacco 
hedged  in  by  the  zig-zag  Virginia  rail  fences. 
Wherever  the  ground  peeps  through  its  green 
blanket  it  shows  its  characteristic  tinge  of 
deep  red, — a cloud  of  fire  in  drought,  a slough 
of  despond  in  wet  weather. 

The  village  of  Orange,  which  is  the  cluster 
of  houses  nearest  to  Montpellier,  lies  about 
eighty -four  miles  to  the  southwest  of  Wash- 
ington. The  distance  which  the  railroad  train 
now  covers  in  two  or  three  hours  required 
as  many  days  to  traverse  by  coach  in  olden 
times;  even  longer,  probably,  in  that  early 
spring  weather  after  the  fourth  of  March, 
1817,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  journeyed 
over  it,  and  when  the  roads  were  heavy.  The 
first  stage  of  the  journey  is  tedious  and  some- 
201 


DOLLY  MADISON 


■what  desolate.  The  country  looks  as  though 
nature  had  abandoned  it  to  man,  and  man  had 
not  yet  accepted  the  trust;  but  as  the  road 
advances  southward,  the  foothills  of  the  moun- 
tains rise  encouragingly  before  the  eyes,  the 
country  begins  to  roll  itself  into  green  billows, 
and  in  the  distance,  like  stately  sentinels,  loom 
the  cones  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 

From  Orange  the  road  to  Montpellier  wfinds 
somewhat  sharply  uphill,  through  groves  of 
thick -growing  pines,  till  at  last  it  halts  be- 
fore an  old-fashioned  gateway,  whose  posts  are 
topped  with  the  always  graceful  urn.  Beyond 
lies  still  another  barred  gate,  and  then  the 
road  sweeps  with  a wide  tranquil  curve  to  the 
foot  of  the  steps  which  lead  up  to  the  broad, 
pillared  portico. 

The  Montpellier  homestead  is  a mansion. 
Before  the  eye  has  had  time  to  take  measures, 
it  is  assured  of  this  fact.  As  in  all  true 
architecture,  the  proportions  are  so  just,  the 
lines  so  simple,  the  scheme  so  dignified,  that 
the  house  needs  no  vast  size  to  lend  it  impres- 
siveness, yet  even  by  the  crude  test  of  the 
foot-rule,  Montpellier  is  by  no  means  insig- 
nificant. Its  length  is  a hundred  and  fifty 
feet  and  its  depth  thirty-two  feet.  Part  of  the 
length  lies  in  the  one-storied  wings,  which, 
set  back  a little  from  the  main  building,  ex- 
202 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


tend  some  twenty  feet  on  either  side,  their  flat 
roofs  protected  by  a wooden  balustrade. 

As  the  front  door  swings  open,  one  looks 
across  the  shallow  hall  which  runs  along  the 
front  of  the  house,  connecting  the  wings,  and  if 
the  opposite  door  of  the  wide  saloon  beyond 
chance  also  to  stand  ajar,  a glimpse  of  lawn 
bounded  by  trees  and  hedges  catches  the 
vision.  The  square  saloon  within  is  shady 
and  cool  in  the  greatest  heats  of  summer,  so 
sheltered  is  it  by  the  porches  on  either  hand. 

On  the  lawn  a few  rods  to  the  west  of  the 
house  stands  a charming  little  classic  temple, 
“ contrived  a double  debt  to  pay,  ” the  upper 
part  serving  for  a summer-house,  as  its  roof 
shuts  out  the  sunlight,  which  is  still  of  a 
southern  intensity,  even  when  filtered  through 
the  leafy  screen  of  overhanging  branches, 
while  beneath  its  floor  is  stored  the  ice  which 
supplies  the  table  of  the  mansion.  From  be- 
tween the  delicate  pillars  which  support  its 
dome  the  idler  from  his  lounging  chair  can 
see  the  lovely  curves  of  the  hills  scumbled  to 
dimness  here  and  there  with  clouds  and  dis- 
tant mist.  It  is  a spot  for  dreaming  rather 
than  doing,  and  Madison  must  have  found 
himself  compelled  to  turn  his  back  upon  the 
too  beguiling  prospect  before  he  could  bend 
his  mind  to  study  or  to  work. 

203 


DOLLY  MADISON 


At  tlie  rear  of  the  house  lies  the  garden 
which  Mrs.  Madison  made  her  especial  care. 
The  path  which  leads  to  it  is  bordered  with 
thick-set  hedges  of  box  which  have  now  grown 
to  a height  in  some  places  above  a man’s  head. 
These  hedges  shut  out  the  sight  of  the  garden 
till  one  is  close  upon  it,  when  he  sees  it 
lying  spread  out  at  his  feet.  It  is  said  that 
Madison  planned  the  horse-shoe  terraces  in 
imitation  of  the  galleries  of  the  Hall  of  Rep- 
resentatives at  Washington,  and  that  the 
parallelogram  which  lies  below  represents  the 
floor  of  that  house. 

The  chief  gardener  was  a Frenchman  named 
Beaz^e,  and  under  Mrs.  Madison’s  superin- 
tendence he  planted,  tended,  watered,  and 
gathered  not  only  the  flowers  which  wei’e 
brought  indoors  to  brighten  and  perfume  the 
square  saloon,  but  also  the  fruits  and  more 
prosaic  vegetables  which  contributed  to  the 
well-being  of  the  household  and  the  stranger 
within  its  gates.  An  important  part  such  a 
garden  played  in  the  management  of  an  estate 
four  miles  distant  from  the  nearest  market, 
where  guests,  expected  and  unexpected,  arrived 
in  great  numbers  at  all  times  and  seasons. 

No  wonder  Dolly  Madison  expended  much 
energy  and  interest  upon  its  domain.  She 
was  always  an  early  riser,  and  often  while  her 
204 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


visitors  were  drowsing  in  the  slothful  delights 
of  the  stolen  morning  nap,  Mrs.  Madison  was 
walking  along  the  paths  between  the  trim  box- 
borders  of  her  beloved  garden,  her  apron  tied 
over  her  dress,  and  her  wide-brimmed  bonnet 
shielding  her  eyes  from  the  morning  sun, 
beside  her  some  little  black  boy  carrying  the 
basket  into  which  fell  the  ripe  fruit  her  hands 
gathered,  or  the  tall  growing  roses  as  they 
were  severed  from  their  stems  by  her  shears, 
and  the  pink  oleander  blossoms  which  were 
her  favorite  flowers,  and  which  she  loved  to 
pluck  and  pin  upon  the  dresses  of  her  young 
girl  visitors. 

It  is  a striking  comment  upon  Mrs. 
Madison’s  character  that  she  could  find  hap- 
piness and  contentment  amid  such  simple  sur- 
roundings and  occupations.  A vainer  woman 
would  have  been  miserable  at  the  withdrawal 
of  the  adulation  which  had  followed  her  for 
a score  of  years.  A weaker  woman  would 
have  sighed  for  the  excitements  of  town  life. 
Dolly  Madison  neither  sighed  nor  moped,  but 
set  about  living  in  these  changed  surroundings 
with  a steady  serenity,  and  the  cheerfulness  of 
a healthy  mind  conscious  of  resources  within 
itself,  and  capable  of  setting  its  own  tasks  and 
making  its  own  pleasures.  The  chief  duty  as 
well  as  the  chief  pleasure  of  her  life  at  Mont- 
205 


DOLLY  MADLSON 


pellier  in  these  days  lay  in  the  care  of  her  hus- 
band’s mother,  now  advanced  far  beyond  the 
limits  of  three  score  and  ten,  yet  still,  in  spite 
of  her  burden  of  over  ninety  years,  of  clear 
intelligence  and  winning  personality. 

The  “old  wing,”  as  it  was  called,  being  the 
one  to  the  right  of  the  door  on  entering,  was 
set  apart  wholly  for  the  use  of  Madison’s 
mother.  One  who  saw  her  in  those  surround- 
ings says : — 

“All  the  appointments  of  her  dwelling  bespoke 
the  olden  day;  dark  and  cumbrous  old  carved  fur- 
niture, carpets  of  which  the  modern  loom  has  for- 
gotten the  patterns,  implements  that  looked  as  if 
Tubal  Cain  has  designed  them;  upholstery  quaint- 
ly, if  not  queerly,  venerable.  In  short,  all  the 
objects  about  her  were  in  keeping  with  her  person 
and  attire.  You  would  have  said  that  they  and  she 
had  sat  to  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  for  a family  picture, 
or  that  you  yourself  had  suddenly  been  transported 
back  to  Addison’s  time,  and  were  peeping  by  priv- 
ilege into  the  most  secluded  parts  of  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley’s  mansion. 

“Indeed,  to  confirm  the  illusion,  you  would 
probably  find  her  reading  the  ‘Spectator’  in  the 
large  imprint  and  rich  binding  of  its  own  period, 
or  thumbing  (as  our  degenerated  misses  do  a novel 
of  the  Dickens  or  Sue  School)  the  leaves  of  Pope, 
Swift,  or  Steele.  . . . Such  books,  then  and  when  her 
old  eyes  grew  weary,  the  almost  equally  antiquated 
206 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


occupation  of  knitting,  habitually  filled  up  the 
hours  of  this  old-time  lady:  the  hours  we  mean 
when  pain  or  feebleness  remitted  her  for  occupa- 
tion. As  to  those  sadder  moments  of  suffering,  or 
of  that  sinking  of  the  bodily  powers  which  presses 
at  times  upon  far-advanced  age,  she  bore  them  with 
the  cheerfulest  patience,  and  even  treated  them  as 
almost  compensated  by  the  constant  delight  of  the 
affections  which  the  pious  care  of  her  children  gave 
her  all  the  while.  Nothing  could  exceed  their 
watchfulness  to  serve  her,  soothe  her,  minister  to 
her  such  enjoyments  as  may  he  made  by  lovingness 
to  linger  around  even  the  last  decline  of  a kindly 
and  well-spent  life. 

“In  all  such  offices  her  son  bore  as  much  part  as 
his  own  frail  health  and  the  lesser  aptitude  of  men 
for  tending  the  sick  permitted;  but  no  daughter 
ever  exceeded  in  the  tender  and  assiduous  arts  of 
alleviation  of  suffering  the  attentions  which  Mrs. 
Madison  gave  to  her  husband’s  infirm  parent.  It 
was  a part,  however,  of  her  system  of  happiness  for 
the  ancient  lady  at  once  to  shut  out  from  her  what 
she  could  ill  sustain,  — the  bustle  of  that  large  estab- 
lishment and  the  gayeties  of  the  more  miscellaneous 
guests  that  often  thronged  it,  and  yet  to  bring  to 
her,  in  special  favor  towards  them,  such  visitors  as 
could  give  her  pleasure  and  break  the  monotony  of 
her  general  seclusion.  These  were  sometimes  old 
and  valued  friends;  sometimes  their  hopeful  off- 
spring; and,  occasionally,  personages  of  such  note 
as  made  her  curious  to  see  them.  All  such  she 


207 


DOLLY  MADISON 


received,  according  to  what  they  were,  with  that 
antique  cordiality  or  amenity  which  belonged  to  the 
fine  old  days  of  good  breeding,  of  which  she  was  a 
genuine  specimen.” 

Eleanor  Conway  Madison  (generally  spoken 
of  as  “Nellie  Madison,”  as  her  daughter-in- 
law  was  called  Dolly),  at  ninety,  was  a charm- 
ing picture  of  serene  age,  occupied,  cheerful, 
and  content,  living  in  her  old  room,  among 
her  old  furniture,  waited  upon  by  gray-haired 
servants,  — a typical  “Madam  Placid.” 

Mrs.  Margaret  Smith,  a dear  friend  of  Dolly 
Madison,  and  a frequent  guest  at  Montpellier, 
was  also  a frequent  visitor  in  the  old-fashioned 
retreat  wherein  Madison’s  mother  held  sway, 
and  where  she  was  always  sure  of  a hearty 
welcome.  “I  asked  her,  wrote  Mrs.  Smith, 
after  one  of  these  visits,  how  she  passed  her 
time.  ‘ I am  never  at  a loss,’  she  replied. 
‘ This  and  these,’  touching  her  knitting  and 
her  books,  ‘ keep  me  always  busy.  Look  at 
my  fingers,  and  you  will  perceive  that  I have 
not  been  idle  ’ (the  tips  of  the  fingers  were 
indeed  polished  by  the  knitting-needles),  ‘ and 
my  eyes,  thanks  be  to  God,  have  not  failed 
me  yet,  and  I read  most  part  of  the  day.  But 
in  other  respects  I am  feeble  and  helpless, 
and  owe  everything  to  her ’ (pointing  to  her 
daughter-in-law).  ‘ She  is  my  mother  now.  ’ ” 
208 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


The  care  and  affection  which  James 
Madison’s  wife  bestowed  upon  his  mother  was 
no  more  than  an  adequate  return  for  the 
interest  which  he  had  always  shown  in  her 
family  circle.  Her  mother  had  shared  his 
home.  Her  sister  Lucy  had  lived  at  the 
White  House  during  her  widowhood,  and  Anna 
Payne  had  grown  up  under  his  care,  and  con- 
tinued to  live  under  his  roof  till  her  marriage 
with  Mr.  Cutts.  To  the  Cutts  children  he 
continued  the  same  uniform  kindness,  and 
with  how  much  solicitude  he  watched  their 
development  may  he  inferred  from  the  long 
letters  which  he  took  time,  in  the  midst  of  all 
the  pressure  of  business,  quite  as  great  at 
Montpellier  as  in  Washington,  to  write.  In 
one  of  these  letters  to  young  Richard  Cutts,  he 
says : — ■ 

“Your  letter,  my  dear  Richard,  gave  me  much 
pleasure,  as  it  shews  that  you  love  your  studies, 
which  you  would  not  do  if  you  did  not  profit  by 
them.  Go  on,  my  good  boy,  and  you  will  find  that 
you  have  chosen  the  best  road  to  a happy  life,  be- 
cause a useful  one,  the  more  happy  because  it  will 
add  to  the  happiness  of  your  parents  and  of  all  who 
love  you  and  are  anxious  to  see  you  desiring  to  be 
loved.  When  I was  at  an  age  which  will  soon  be 
yours,  a book  fell  into  my  hands  which  I read,  as  I 
believe,  with  peculiar  advantage.  I have  always 
14  209 


DOLLY  MADISON 


thought  it  the  best  that  had  been  written  for  cher- 
ishing in  young  minds  a desire  for  improvement,  a 
taste  for  learning,  and  a lively  sense  of  the  duties, 
the  virtues,  and  the  proprieties  of  life. 

“ The  work  I speak  of  is  ‘The  Spectator,’  well 
known  by  that  title.  It  had  several  authors,  at  the 
head  of  them  Mr.  Addison,  whose  papers  are  marked 
at  the  bottom  of  each  one  of  the  letters  in  the  name 
of  the  muse,  ‘Clio.’  They  will  reward  you  fora 
second  reading  after  reading  them  along  with  the 
others. 

“Addison  was  of  the  first  rank  among  the  fine 
writers  of  the  age,  and  has  given  a definition  of 
what  he  showed  himself  to  be  an  example.  ‘ Fine 
writing,  ’ he  says,  ‘ consists  of  sentiments  that  are 
natural  without  being  obvious,’  to  which  adding 
the  remark  of  Swift,  another  celebrated  author  of 
the  same  period,  making  a good  style  to  consist  of 
‘ proper  words  in  their  proper  places,  ’ a definition 
is  formed  which  will  merit  your  recollection,  when 
you  become  qualified,  as  I hope  you  will  one  day  be, 
to  employ  your  pen  for  the  benefit  of  others,  and 
for  your  own  reputation.  I send  you  a copy  of  the 
‘Spectator,’  that  it  may  be  at  hand  when  the  time 
arrives  for  making  use  of  it;  and  as  a token,  also, 
of  the  good  wishes  of  your  affectionate  Uncle.” 

It  is  deeply  to  be  regretted  that  Madison, 
who  did  so  much  for  his  nephews,  was  unable 
to  exert  his  influence  nearer  home,  and  to 
impress  his  own  worthy  characteristics  upon 
210 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


his  graceless  step-son.  From  the  beginning 
he  treated  Payne  Todd  with  all  the  gentleness 
and  forbearance  of  a father,  and  Avith  perhaps 
less  sternness  than  he  would  have  shown 
towards  a son  of  his  own, — a sternness  which 
young  Todd  richly  deserved,  and  which  might 
have  greatly  improved  him. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  ascribe  to  maternal 
influence  the  difference  between  a John  Quincy 
Adams  and  a John  Payne  Todd,  yet  one  can- 
not avoid  the  impression  that  had  Dolly 
Madison  established  the  combined  firmness  of 
discipline  and  closeness  of  companionship 
which  marked  the  intercourse  of  Abigail  Adams 
with  her  children,  she  might  have  escaped 
many  of  the  deplorable  consequences  growing 
out  of  her  son’s  conduct  and  misconduct. 

From  the  time  of  his  coming  to  Montpellier 
as  a tiny  boy,  Payne  Todd  showed  himself  at 
once  weak  and  wilful.  As  he  grew  older  he 
was  sent  to  Baltimore  to  a Roman  Catholic 
school.  He  was  a handsome  lad  with  an 
attractive  face  and  something  of  his  mother’s 
charm  of  manner,  but  both  charm  and  beauty 
were  early  destroyed  by  dissipation,  and  his 
spendthrift  habits  foretold  the  anxieties  sure 
to  befall  his  mother. 

In  1813,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  was 
sent  abroad,  and  accompanied  the  ambassa- 
211 


DOLLY  MADISON 


dors  despatched  to  negotiate  the  treaty  at 
Ghent  in  1814.  Albert  Gallatin  was  one  of 
these  ambassadors,  and  his  wife,  who  was  a 
warm  friend  and  admirer  of  Mrs.  Madison, 
wrote  home  at  intervals  of  Payne’s  enjoying 
his  trip  and  meeting  many  attentions  abroad. 
No  doubt  it  pleased  the  young  man  mightily  to 
be  called  the  “Prince  of  America,”  and  to 
dance  with  the  Russian  princesses  within  the 
sacred  space  reserved  for  royalty,  while  Hem-y 
Clay  and  John  Quincy  Adams  looked  on  from 
the  more  plebeian  gallery.  Yet  the  wisdom  of 
the  expedition  seems  more  than  doubtful,  and 
it  is  certain  that  the  young  man  received  more 
harm  than  good  from  his  European  wanderings. 

When  at  last  he  returned  to  America, 
instead  of  settling  down  to  work  as  his  mother 
had  fondly  hoped,  he  idled  away  his  time,  first 
in  one  city,  then  in  another,  and  his  own  money 
having  been  soon  consumed,  he  began  to  make 
constant  applications  to  his  mother  for  funds, 
and  to  contract  debts  which  were  paid  over 
and  over  by  his  step-father.  His  mother 
ardently  desired  him  to  marry ; but  he  showed 
no  sign  of  any  such  intention ; though  he  did 
have  the  grace  to  fall  honestly  and  respect- 
ably in  love  with  the  beautiful  Ann  Cole,  a 
Williamsburg  belle,  who  was  hard-hearted  or 
far-sighted  enough  to  decline  his  suit,  — a 
212 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


fact  for  which  Dolly  Madison,  womanlike,  bora 
a little  resentment,  and  counselled  her  son  to 
remember  that  there  were  plenty  of  other 
charming  girls  in  the  world,  and  he  need  not 
turn  his  back  upon  the  sex  because  one  proved 
unkind.  He  preferred,  however,  to  drown  his 
sorrow,  if  indeed  his  nature  was  capable  of 
any  real  grief,  in  the  wine-cup,  and  continued 
to  amuse  himself  with  other  kindred  spirits 
around  the  gaming-table. 

His  mother’s  letters  to  him  throughout  this 
period  are  pitiful.  She  tells  him  that  every 
one  is  inquiring  for  him,  and  wondering  that 
he  should  stay  away  so  long,  and  she  (alas  !)  is 
ashamed  to  tell  the  length  of  his  absence. 
His  gambling  debts  are  spoken  of  as  busi- 
ness embarrassments,  concerning  which  she 
counsels  him  to  consult  with  his  father  and 
herself,  and  begs  him  to  come  home.  The 
perpetual  burden  of  every  letter  is,  “ Come 
home  ! ” Yet,  when  he  did  come  there  could 
be  little  sympathy  between  the  unreformed 
prodigal  and  the  simple,  monotonously  temper- 
ate and  virtuous  household  at  Montpellier ; and 
on  the  whole  his  mother’s  heart  must  have 
been  lighter  when  he  took  his  departure,  and 
she  was  not  forced  by  daily  reminders  to 
realize  what  an  utter  wreck  he  had  made  of 
his  life. 


213 


DOLLY  MADISON 


It  was  well,  perhaps,  that  Mrs.  Madison  had 
so  many  duties  to  occupy  her  time  that  she 
had  little  leisure  to  dwell  upon  this  disap- 
pointment, the  greatest  grief  of  her  middle 
life  until  the  overshadowing  sorrow  of  her 
husband’s  death.  Her  days  were  very  full. 
In  addition  to  the  care  of  the  garden  all  the 
superintendence  of  the  household  devolved 
upon  her.  To  her  it  fell  to  distribute  the  pro- 
visions and  to  turn  the  key,  as  was  necessary, 
upon  all  the  store-rooms ; to  attend  to  the 
cutting  out  of  the  wearing  apparel  for  all 
the  servants;  to  visit  the  negro  quarters;  in 
the  event  of  a birth  among  the  slaves,  to  super- 
intend the  care  of  mother  and  child ; to  listen 
to  complaints ; to  treat  symptoms  with  the 
simple  medicaments  usually  kept  at  hand  in 
every  southern  plantation  household ; and 
finally  when  all  these  matters  were  attended 
to,  the  chief  business  of  the  day,  the  entertain- 
ment of  guests,  was  to  be  seriously  under- 
taken. 

In  the  rare  intervals  when  Montpellier  was 
without  visitors,  Mrs.  Madison  spent  her  days 
in  efforts  to  spare  her  husband’s  eyes  by  act- 
ing as  his  amanuensis  in  his  correspondence, 
and  bv  reading  aloud  from  the  books  which 
strewed  the  tables,  chairs,  and  floor  of  his 
library  “thick  as  leaves  in  Vallombrosa.” 

214 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


Mrs.  Madison’s  own  sight  was  far  from  strong, 
and  in  her  later  years  her  eyes  gave  her  much 
trouble.  In  1833  Madison  writes  to  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin Waterhouse,  acknowledging  the  receipt 
of  a book.  “Although  the  state  of  my  eyes,” 
he  says,  “permits  me  to  read  but  little,  and 
my  rheumatic  fingers  abhor  the  pen,  I did  not 
resist  the  attraction  of  your  literary  present, 
and  I drop  you  a line  to  thank  you  for  it. 
Mrs.  Madison’s  eyes  being  in  the  same  state 
with  mine,  we  found  it  convenient  to  read  in 
a sort  of  partnership,  and  you  may  consider 
her  as  a partner  also  in  the  thanks  for  it. 
Should  you  enlarge  a new  edition  as  you  hint, 
by  the  introduction  of  a Pocahontas  or  two 
among  the  dramatis  personce,  the  redness  of 
the  skin  would  not  in  her  eyes  impair  the 
merit  it  covers.” 

This  letter,  which  is  surely  a model  of 
urbane  and  non-committal  acknowledgment  of 
the  “presentation  copy,”  shows  that  Mrs. 
Madison’s  sight  was  even  then  failing,  and 
that  her  general  health  was  also  beginning 
to  break  appears  from  various  paragraphs  in 
her  husband’s  letters.  To  Mrs.  Margaret 
Smith  he  writes  that  Mrs.  Madison  has  lately 
been  seriously  ill,  but  is  now  recovering.  To 
Jefferson,  with  whom  his  intimacy  never 
flagged,  he  often  expresses  anxiety  about  his 
215 


DOLLY  MADISON 


wife’s  health,  but  Mrs.  Madison’s  own  letters 
are  all  so  bright,  so  cheerful,  and  so  overflow- 
ing with  interest  in  others,  that  they  give  little 
hint  of  her  physical  limitations,  and  through 
her  husband  she  is  constantly  sending  affec- 
tionate words  and  gracious  compliments  and 
good  wishes  to  his  correspondents.  To  R.  B. 
Lee,  Madison  writes:  “Mrs.  Madison  desires 
to  be  remembered  to  Mrs.  Lee,  with  an  assur- 
ance of  her  continued  affection  and  of  the 
lively  interest  she  feels  in  whatever  may  relate 
to  the  happiness  of  her  early  and  highly  valued 
friend.”  To  Henry  Clay:  “Mrs.  Madison 
charges  me  with  affectionate  regards  to  Mrs. 
Clay.”  To  George  Ticknor:  “Mrs.  Madison 
is  greatly  obliged  by  the  portrait  of  the  Hero 
of  Liberty  and  Humanity  so  dear  to  us  all ; ” 
and  to  Edward  Livingston,  who  has  sent  a 
portrait  of  himself  to  his  friends  at  Mont- 
pellier: “The  promised  bust  will  be  received 
by  Mrs.  Madison  with  pleasure,  the  greater 
as  she  knows  I shall  share  it  with  her.  It 
will  be  associated  in  the  little  group  with  the 
class  which  adds  to  other  titles  to  commemo- 
rative distinction  appeals  to  the  feelings  of 
private  friendship.  ” 

In  looking  through  the  voluminous  files  of 
the  Madison  Papers,  I have  made  a partial  list 
of  the  gifts  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  which 
216 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


are  alluded  to  in  their  pages.  It  is  a strange 
medley,  and  includes  every  variety  of  article, 
— busts  and  statues,  portraits  and  paintings  ; 
a chair  from  the  Emperor  of  Morocco ; a set  of 
china  once  the  property  of  Marie  Antoinette; 
a pair  of  decanters  made  in  America;  a bag 
of  white  Sumatra  peppers ; a bos  of  lupinella- 
seed;  grafts  of  tulip-trees  and  St.  Germain 
pears;  strawberry  plants  and  Natchitoches 
snuff;  a pair  of  Coke-Eevon  calves;  merino 
sheep;  white  mice,  pheasants,  and  tiger-skins. 
Mrs.  Randolph  sends  Madison  her  cookery- 
book,  and,  to  make  the  honors  even,  Weems 
sends  his  Life  of  William  Penn  to  Mrs.  Madi- 
son, to  whom  also  Solomon  Southwick  presents 
“a  perfect  set  of  the  ‘Christian  Visitant.’” 
A Frenchman  sends  a glass  flute,  his  own 
invention,  and  a German  makes  a more  sub- 
stantial offering  of  a case  of  hock. 

The  list  soon  becomes  tedious  in  length; 
but  it  serves  to  show  how  constantly  and  affec- 
tionately the  Madisons  were  remembered,  not 
only  in  their  days  of  power,  but  in  that  period 
of  seclusion  when  gifts  carried  a sense  of  true 
affection,  and  of  that  gratitude  which  was  a 
genuine  recognition  of  good  offices  in  the  past 
rather  than  “ a lively  sense  of  favors  to  come.  ” 
The  mere  acknowledgment  of  all  the  offerings 
which  came  to  Montpellier  was  a tax  upon  the 
217 


DOLLY  MADISON 


time  and  strength  of  the  Madisons,  but  it 
opened  up  charming  new  acquaintances  and 
strengthened  the  old  familiar  ties.  By  cor- 
respondence such  as  theirs  with  all  parts  of 
Europe  and  America,  the  ex-President  and  his 
wife  were  held  in  touch  with  all  the  affairs 
moving  in  the  outer  world.  All  the  news 
public  and  private  drifted  sooner  or  later  to 
their  door.  Gossiping  letters  from  the  capital 
told  of  great  things  and  small.  The  marriage 
of  President  Monroe’s  daughter,  and  the  fes- 
tivities so  rudely  interrupted  by  the  duel  of 
Barron  and  Decatur,  and  the  death  of  the 
latter,  which  threw  the  city  into  mourning;  of 
the  various  grand  entertainments  which  marked 
the  administration  of  Monroe,  and  later  of 
John  Quincy  Adams,  and  the  final  culmina- 
tion of  social  excitement  in  the  ball  given  by 
Mrs.  Adams,  eclipsing  all  foregoing  festivities, 
and  made  notable  by  the  enormous  throng  of 
people  who  crowded  every  corner  and  stood 
on  chairs  in  order  to  get  a glimpse  of  the 
people’s  hero,  Andrew  Jackson, — an  occasion 
which  inspired  a poem  of  innumerable  stan- 
zas, with  the  refrain : — 

“ Mothers,  daughters, 

Maids  and  Madams,  — 

All  are  gone 
To  Mrs.  Adams.” 


218 


LIFE  AT  MONTPELLIER 


The  latest  news  of  the  literary  world,  as 
well  as  the  social,  drifted  to  the  doors  of 
Montpellier;  but  Mrs.  Madison’s  life  was  too 
busy  for  much  reading,  even  had  her  taste 
inclined  in  that  direction,  which  it  did  not. 
She  writes  occasionally  to  a friend  begging 
for  some  new  novel,  and  complains  of  Cooper 
(fancy  it!)  as  too  melodramatic,  and  dealing 
in  the  horrible  beyond  the  endurance  of  her 
nerves.  On  one  occasion  she  contemplates  a 
plunge  into  so  serious  a work  as  the  Romance 
of  History ; but  there  is  no  record  of  her 
finishing  it,  and  she  returns  The  Oxonians, 
finding  her  mind  too  occupied  with  family 
anxieties  to  enjoy  reading. 

In  the  main,  despite  all  these  anxieties, 
Dolly  Madison’s  life  at  Montpellier  during 
the  nineteen  years  between  her  leaving  Wash- 
ington in  1817  and  her  husband’s  death  in 
1886,  were  full  of  sunshine,  full  of  occupation, 
and  overshadowed  by  fewer  clouds  of  trouble 
and  sorrow  than  darken  the  lot  of  most 
mortals. 


219 


XII 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 

During  the  entire  period  of  Madison’s  retire- 
ment until  within  a few  months  of  his  death, 
when  illness  compelled  seclusion,  the  gates  of 
Montpellier  wei’e  never  closed  to  friend  or 
stranger.  Visitors  of  every  kind,  impelled  by 
every  variety  of  motive,  claimed  entrance  here, 
and  had  their  claim  allowed.  Distinguished 
foreigners,  such  as  Lafayette,  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau,  and  the  Count  D’Orsay,  came  to  estab- 
lish or  renew  an  acquaintance  with  the  man 
whose  fame  as  the  “Father  of  the  Constitu- 
tion ” had  travelled  over  Europe.  Stanch 
Democrats  came  from  all  parts  of  the  United 
States  to  pay  their  respects  to  Jefferson’s 
greatest  disciple;  and  tourists  to  the  Virginia 
Springs,  whose  road  lay  very  near,  were  glad 
of  the  opportunity  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  by 
a glimpse  of  the  ex-President,  and  his  no  less 
famous  wife.  In  addition  to  these  visitors 
must  be  reckoned  the  host  of  political  friends 
and  acquaintances  making  semi-annually  pil- 
220 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


grimages  to  Washington,  the  army  of  relatives 
on  either  side  of  the  family  and  finally  the 
neighbors  who  in  summer  weather  drove  over 
from  their  adjacent  plantations  to  spend  the 
day,  arriving  in  the  middle  of  the  morning  in 
order  to  give  time  for  additional  preparations 
for  the  midday  dinner,  and  remaining  till 
the  coolness  of  the  afternoon  rendered  the  re- 
turn drive  pleasant. 

It  was  a principle  at  Montpellier  that  every 
guest  must  be  feasted, — “ if  a stranger,  because 
strangers  ought  to  be  made  to  pass  their  time 
as  agreeably  as  possible ; if  a friend,  because 
nothing  can  be  too  good  for  one’s  friends.” 
A contemporary  truly  observed  that  where 
such  a domestic  policy  prevailed  there  would 
seldom  be  a lack  of  guests.  “Indeed,”  he 
says,  “the  condition  is  one  hard  to  avoid,  and 
so  pleasant  withal  that  we  have  known  persons 
of  wit  and  breeding  to  adopt  it  as  their  sole 
profession,  and  benevolently  pass  their  lives 
in  guarding  their  friends,  one  after  another, 
from  the  distresses  of  a guestless  mansion.  ” 

The  dining-room  of  Montpellier  was  a rather 
large,  square  room  in  the  new  wing  opposite 
the  apartments  of  Madison’s  mother;  but  large 
as  it  was,  its  capacity  was  often  tased  by  the 
number  of  those  who  came  to  share  its  bounty ; 
and  on  special  occasions,  such  as  the  Fourth 
221 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of  July,  which  was  always  a time  of  great 
hilarity  at  Montpellier  as  throughout  the 
country,  it  was  found  necessary  to  set  the 
tables  out  of  doors. 

In  a letter  written  to  her  sister  Anna,  in 
1820,  Mrs.  Madison  says:  — 

“ Yesterday  we  had  ninety  persons  to  dine  with 
us  at  one  table,  fixed  on  the  lawn,  under  a large 
arbor.  The  dinner  was  profuse  and  handsome,  and 
the  company  very  orderly.  Many  of  your  old  ac- 
quaintances were  here  — among  them  the  two  Bar- 
bours. We  had  no  ladies  except  Mother  Madison, 
Mrs.  Macon,  and  Nelly  Willis.  The  day  was  cool 
and  all  pleasant.  Half  a dozen  only  staid  all  night, 
and  are  now  about  to  depart.  President  Monroe’s 
letter  this  morning  announces  the  French  Minister; 
we  expect  him  this  evening,  or  perhaps  sooner, 
though  he  may  not  come  until  to-morrow;  but  I 
am  less  worried  here  with  a hundred  visitors  than 
with  twenty-five  in  Washington,  this  summer  es- 
pecially.” 

The  two  Barbours  alluded  to  in  this  letter 
were  brothers,  whose  name  is  still  preserved 
in  the  little  town  of  Barboursville  lying  on  the 
route  of  the  Southern  Railway  three  miles 
south  of  Montpellier.  They  were  prominent 
men  in  Virginia,  Philip  becoming  a judge, 
and  James  Governor  of  the  State.  John 
Randolph  described  the  difference  between 
222 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


them  with  his  usual  caustic  wit,  saying,  “Phil 
aims  at  ahorse  hair  and  splits  it;  James  aims 
at  a barn-door  and  misses  it.”  Both  were 
men  of  marked  ability,  however,  and  frequent 
visitors  at  Montpellier. 

But  the  most  cherished  and  eagerly  looked 
for  of  all  the  guests  at  Mrs.  Madison’s  home 
were  Jefferson,  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph, 
and  her  family.  With  them  there  was  no  con- 
straint, no  concealment,  no  effort,  and  in  the 
return  of  these  visits  the  Madisons  found  an 
occasional  needed  respite  from  their  own 
duties  of  host  and  hostess.  Monticello  as 
well  as  Montpellier  was  sadly  taxed  with  unin- 
vited guests,  and  Jefferson  even  more  than 
Madison  suffered  from  the  irksome  duties  of 
giving  time  and  strength  to  the  entertaining 
of  uncongenial  and  indifferent  comers  from  all 
directions. 

Captain  Bacon,  the  steward  of  Monticello, 
says  that  Jefferson  was  literally  eaten  out  of 
house  and  home  by  his  guests : — 

“They  were  there  all  times  of  the  year;  hut 
about  the  middle  of  June  the  travel  would  com- 
mence from  the  lower  part  of  the  State  to  the 
Springs,  and  then  there  was  a perfect  throng  of 
visitors.  They  travelled  in  their  own  carriages 
and  came  in  gangs,  the  whole  family  with  carriage 
and  riding  horses  and  servants,  sometimes  three  or 
223 


DOLLY  MADISON 


four  such  gangs  at  a time.  We  had  thirty-six 
stalls  for  horses,  and  only  used  about  ten  of  them 
for  the  stock  we  kept  there.  Very  often  all  of  the 
rest  were  full  and  I had  to  send  horses  off  to  an- 
other place.  I have  often  sent  a wagon-load  of  hay 
up  to  the  stable,  and  the  next  morning  there  would 
not  be  enough  left  to  make  a bird’s  nest.  I have 
killed  a line  beef  and  it  would  be  all  eaten  in  a day 
or  two.” 

Bacon  saw  with  alarm  that  this  wholesale 
hospitality  was  making  serious  inroads  upon 
the  estate,  and  he  strove  to  introduce  various 
small  economies.  Unknown  to  his  master,  he 
ordered  half  rations  given  to  visitors’  horses, 
but  Jefferson  soon  heard  of  the  matter,  and 
countermanded  the  order.  The  steward  was 
in  despair.  His  master,  he  says,  knew  that 
his  income  was  being  exceeded,  but  in  his 
politeness  he  continued  to  bid  all  the  world 
welcome,  and  to  offer  the  best  he  could  set  be- 
fore them.  Shrewd  Captain  Bacon,  who  played 
the  part  of  Sancho  Panza  to  Jefferson’s  Quix- 
ote, remarks : “ They  pretended  to  come  out  of 
respect  and  regard  to  him,  but  I think  that 
the  fact  that  they  saved  a tavern  bill  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  it,  with  a good  many  of 
them.” 

That  Jefferson  and  his  family,  however 
smiling  a front  they  might  present  to  the 
224 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


world,  were  often  worn  out  with  the  arduous- 
ness of  their  social  duties,  appears  very  dis- 
tinctly in  a couple  of  letters  which  passed 
between  him  and  his  daughter.  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph writes:  — 

“I  was  at  Monticello  one  day  before  the  ar- 
rival of  any  one,  and  one  more  day  of  interval 
between  the  departure  of  one  family  and  the  arrival 
of  another;  after  which  time  I never  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  passing  one  sociable  moment  with  you. 
Always  in  a crowd,  taken  from  every  useful  and 
pleasing  duty  to  be  worried  with  a multiplicity  of 
disagreeable  ones,  which  the  entertaining  of  such 
crowds  of  company  subjects  one  to  in  the  country. 
...  I find  myself  every  day  becoming  more  averse 
to  company.” 

Her  father  replies  with  sincere  sympathy : — ■ 

“Nobody  can  ever  have  felt  so  severely  as  my- 
self the  prostration  of  family  society  from  the 
circumstance  you  mention.  . . . But  there  is  no 
remedy.  The  present  manners  and  usages  of  our 
country  are  laws  we  cannot  repeal.  They  are  alter- 
ing by  degrees,  and  you  will  live  to  see  the  hospi- 
tality of  the  country  reduced  to  the  visiting  hours 
of  the  day,  and  the  family  left  to  tranquillity  in 
the  evening.” 

Mrs.  Madison  never  gave  utterance  to  any 
sentiment  as  radical  as  these  of  Jefferson  to 

15  225 


DOLLY  MADISON 


his  daughter ; but  there  appears  from  time  to 
time  in  her  letters  a gentle  weariness  acknowl- 
edging that  the  play  is  excellent,  yet  “ would 
it  were  done.”  Her  husband  chafed  more 
under  the  restraint  than  she,  casting  longing 
looks  at  the  closed  door  of  his  dear  library, 
and  then  returning  to  the  restraints  imposed 
by  civility  and  his  duties  as  host.  Yet  with 
them  both  this  mood  was  occasional,  and  varied 
by  times  of  the  keenest  enjoyment  in  finding 
themselves  surrounded  by  friends  to  whose 
enjoyment  and  amusement  they  were  able  to 
contribute  so  much. 

The  mansion  at  Montpellier  was  admirably 
adapted  to  the  hospitalities  which  it  so 
bountifully  offered.  The  rooms  were  large, 
with  a certain  air  of  nobleness,  the  furni- 
ture neither  sparse  nor  huddled.  Nothing 
seemed  done  for  show,  but  everything  for 
comfort.  “You  soon  grew  at  your  ease,” 
says  a visitor  within  its  walls,  “if  at  arriving 
you  had  been  otherwise,  for  here  was  in  its 
perfection  that  happiest  part  and  surest  test 
of  good-breeding,  — the  power  of  at  once  put- 
ting every  one  at  ease.  The  attentions  not 
over-assiduous,  not  slack,  but  kept  to  a great 
degree  out  of  sight,  by  making  a body  of  thor- 
oughly-trained and  most  mannerly  servants 
their  ministrants,  so  that  the  hosts  performed 
226 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


in  person  little  but  tlie  higher  rites  of  hospi- 
tality, and  thus  seemed  to  have  no  trouble  and 
much  pleasure  in  entertaining  you.  Accord- 
ingly there  has  seldom,  even  in  the  hilarious 
land  of  old  Virginia,  been  a house  kept,  — 
especially  by  elderly  people, — at  which  it  was 
pleasanter  to  be  a sojourner.  They  always 
made  you  glad  to  have  come  and  sorry  that 
you  must  go.” 

This  was  indeed  the  essence  of  fine  hospi- 
tality, and  like  the  quality  of  mercy  it  blessed 
those  that  gave  as  well  as  those  who  received. 
To  Madison  it  meant  a constant  polishing  of 
the  mind  and  manners  which  so  soon  grow 
rusty  in  complete  inaction  and  seclusion,  and 
to  Mrs.  Madison  it  supplied  the  lack  of  a 
liberal  education,  as  well  as  of  the  advantages 
of  travel.  The  world  came  to  her  who  had 
otherwise  never  seen  the  world,  for  Dolly 
Madison’s  little  journeyings  were  bounded  by 
the  strip  of  coast  lying  between  New  York 
and  North  Carolina.  Of  Europe  she  knew 
nothing,  and  her  familiarity  with  her  own 
country  was  limited  to  an  acquaintance  with 
three  or  four  large  towns  and  an  experience 
of  Virginia  country-life.  Yet,  thanks  to  her 
wide  and  cosmopolitan  acquaintance,  she  had 
become  herself  a cosmopolitan. 

The  precise  amount  of  pleasure  or  the 
227 


DOLLY  MADISON 


reverse  to  be  extracted  from  the  exercise  of 
such  unlimited  hospitality  as  prevailed  at 
Montpellier  is  impossible  to  estimate,  because 
it  varied  with  the  individual  occasion,  and  the 
conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was  well 
expressed  by  Madison  when  he  said  that  some 
visits  were  taxes  and  others  bounties.  He 
was  wont  to  smile,  in  his  moderate,  drily 
humorous  fashion,  over  the  occasional  lack  of 
congeniality  between  host  and  guests  which 
made  conversation  difficult  and  sympathy 
impossible.  He  told  in  particular  of  a young 
Englishman  visiting  at  Montpellier,  whose 
passion  was  geology,  concerning  which  Madison 
was  as  ignorant  as  he  was  indifferent.  Much 
to  his  amusement,  he  saw  his  guest  one  morn- 
ing rushing  toward  him  in  a transport  of 
enthusiasm,  holding  out  a stone,  which  he 
almost  thrust  into  Madison’s  face,  crying  out, 
“ Graywacke,  sir ! graywacke,  graywacke  ! ” 
Among  the  visits  which  were  reckoned  as 
“bounties”  at  Montpellier  few  were  recorded 
with  more  satisfaction  than  that  received  from 
Harriet  Martineau,  who,  in  the  autumn  of  the 
year  1834,  had  come  to  America  with  the  pur- 
pose of  investigating  for  herself  the  existing 
condition  of  slavery  in  “the  States.”  Mrs. 
Madison  wrote  at  once  inviting  her  to  come  to 
Montpellier,  where  she  would  have  every  op- 
228 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


portunity  to  study  the  question  at  short  range, 
and  Miss  Martineau  gladly  accepted  the  invi- 
tation. Of  this  visit  she  gives  a graphic  and 
most  enthusiastic  description  in  her  Retro- 
spect of  Western  Travel. 

She  and  her  vivacious  little  friend  and  com- 
panion, Miss  Jeffrey,  left  Washington  in  the 
spring  of  1835  with  a vague  feeling  that  they 
were  plunging  into  an  unknown  region,  and 
certain  political  alarmists  strove  to  foment 
their  anxieties  by  picturing  the  dangers  to 
which  Miss  Martineau  would  be  exposed  in 
the  South  on  account  of  her  well-known  anti- 
slavery sentiments,  which  she  had  too  much 
principle  and  too  little  tact  to  conceal.  If, 
however,  Harriet  Martineau  and  her  friend 
started  forth  with  any  apprehensions  of  social 
martyrdom,  their  experience  at  Montpellier 
speedily  allayed  all  fears. 

At  Orange  Court  House  the  perfidious  inn- 
keeper, concealing  the  fact  that  Mr.  Madison 
had  given  directions  that  he  be  informed  of 
their  arrival  in  order  that  he  might  send  his 
carriage,  rented  them  an  uncomfortable  turn- 
out at  an  excessive  charge;  but  the  tourists 
were  not  sufficiently  out  of  sorts  to  lose  the 
pleasure  of  the  drive,  and  a very  lovely  drive 
it  was,  save  for  the  mud,  even  at  that  bare 
season.  Miss  Martineau  wrote  afterwards : — 
229 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“ It  was  a sweet  day  of  early  spring.  The 
patches  of  snow  that  were  left  under  the  fences  and 
on  the  rising  grounds  were  melting  fast.  The  road 
was  one  continued  slough  up  to  the  very  portico  of 
the  house.  The  dwelling  stands  on  a gentle  emin- 
ence, and  is  neat  and  even  handsome  in  its  exterior, 
with  a flight  of  steps  leading  up  to  the  portico.  A 
lawn  and  wood,  which  must  be  pleasant  in  summer, 
stretch  behind,  and  from  the  front  there  is  a noble 
object  on  the  horizon,  the  mountain  chain  which 
traverses  the  State,  and  makes  it  eminent  for  its 
scenery.  The  shifting  lights  upon  these  blue 
mountains  were  a delightful  refreshment  to  the  eye 
after  so  many  weeks  of  city  life  as  we  had  passed. 

“We  were  warmly  welcomed  by  Mrs.  Madison 
and  a niece,  a young  lady  who  was  on  a visit  to  her; 
and  when  I left  my  room  I was  conducted  to  the 
apartment  of  Mr.  Madison.  He  had,  the  preced- 
ing season,  suffered  so  severely  from  rheumatism, 
that  during  this  winter  he  confined  himself  to  one 
room  ; rising  after  breakfast  before  nine  o’clock, 
and  sitting  in  his  easy-chair  till  ten  at  night.” 

Miss  Martineau  was  evidently  prepared  to 
see  Madison’s  faculties,  mental  as  well  as 
physical,  on  the  decline;  but  on  the  contrary, 
she  found  him  keen,  alert,  and  responsive: — - 

“He  appeared  perfectly  well  during  my  visit, 
and  was  a wonderful  man  of  eighty-tliree.  He 
complained  of  one  ear  being  deaf,  and  that  his 
sight,  which  had  never  been  perfect,  prevented  his 
230 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


reading;  so  much  so  that  his  studies  ‘ lay  in  a nut- 
shell; ’ hut  he  could  hear  Mrs.  Madison  read,  and  I 
did  not  perceive  that  he  lost  any  part  of  the  con- 
versation. He  was  in  his  chair,  with  a pillow  be- 
hind him,  when  I first  saw  him,  his  little  person 
wrapped  in  a black  silk  gown;  a warm  gray  and 
white  cap  upon  his  head,  which  his  lady  took  care 
should  always  sit  becomingly;  and  gray  worsted 
gloves,  his  hands  having  been  rheumatic. 

“ His  voice  was  clear  and  strong,  and  his  manner 
of  speaking  particularly  lively,  often  playful.  Ex- 
cept that  the  face  was  smaller,  and  of  course  older, 
the  likeness  to  the  common  engraving  of  him  was 
perfect.  He  seemed  not  to  have  lost  any  teeth,  and 
the  form  of  the  face  was  therefore  preserved  with- 
out any  striking  marks  of  age.  His  relish  for  con- 
versation could  never  have  been  keener.  I was  in 
perpetual  fear  of  his  being  exhausted,  and  at  the 
end  of  every  few  hours  I left  my  seat  by  the  arm  of 
his  chair  and  went  to  the  sofa  by  Mrs.  Madison  on 
the  other  side  of  the  room;  but  he  was  sure  to  fol- 
low and  sit  down  between  us;  so  that  when  I found 
the  only  effect  of  my  moving  was  to  deprive  him  of 
the  comfort  of  his  chair,  I returned  to  my  station 
and  never  left  it  but  for  food  and  sleep,  glad 
enough  to  make  the  most  of  my  means  of  inter- 
course with  one  whose  political  philosophy  I deeply 
venerated.” 

Many  were  the  themes  touched  upon  by 

these  two  kindred  minds,  each  stimulated 

231 


DOLLY  MADISON 


by  the  other  to  its  best  and  clearest  think- 
ing. The  host  and  his  guest  talked  of  the 
framing  of  the  Constitution,  of  nullification, 
of  colonization,  and  of  slavery  in  all  its  phases. 
Madison  showed  himself  not  only  open  to  con- 
viction, but  already  fully  convinced  of  the  evils 
of  slavery  although  he  found  it  so  intertwined 
with  all  the  industries  and  institutions  of  his 
country  that  the  disentanglement  was  well- 
nigh  an  impossibility.  He  spoke  especially, 
and  with  deep  feeling,  of  the  difficulties  en- 
tailed upon  the  mistress  of  the  household, 
declaring  that  the  saddest  slavery  of  all  was 
that  of  the  conscientious  southern  women. 

He  spoke  of  the  mistaken  ideas  prevailing 
abroad  as  to  the  sufferings  of  the  negroes,  and 
alluded  to  the  surprise  of  some  strangers 
who  came  to  Montpellier  under  the  impression 
that  slaves  were  always  ragged,  frequently 
under  the  lash,  and  generally  miserable.  These 
visitors  one  Sunday  morning  saw  the  Mont- 
pellier negroes  going  to  church,  all  in  holiday 
attire,  the  women  in  bright-colored  calicoes. 
When  a sprinkling  of  rain  came,  up  went 
a dozen  umbrellas.  At  once  the  strangers 
veered  about  to  the  opinion  that  the  lot  of 
the  slave  was  a particularly  happy  one,  but 
Madison’s  candor  again  undeceived  them. 

It  is  an  interesting  picture  that  rises  before 
232 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


our  vision  as  we  fancy  these  talks  and  talkers 
at  the  old  Virginia  mansion  in  Madison’s  little 
“ den  ” : Harriet  Martineau,  with  her  ear- 
trumpet,  brisk  and  trenchant;  Madison,  pale 
and  reserved,  shrinking  within  his  black  dress- 
ing-gown; Mrs.  Madison,  adjusting  his  cap  to 
the  becoming  angle,  and  dividing  her  time 
between  her  chief  guest  and  lively  little  Miss 
Jeffrey. 

On  the  second  day  of  her  visit  Miss  Martineau 
was  again  surprised  by  an  instance  of  Madison’s 
energy : — 

“The  active  old  man,  who  declared  himself 
crippled  with  rheumatism,  had  breakfasted,  risen, 
and  was  dressed,  before  we  sat  down  to  break- 
fast. He  talked  a good  deal  about  the  American 
presidents,  and  some  living  politicians,  for  two 
hours,  when  his  letters  and  newspapers  were 
brought  in.  He  asked  me,  smiling,  if  I thought 
it  too  vast  and  anti-republican  a privilege  for  the 
ex-presidents  to  have  their  letters  and  newspapers 
free,  considering  that  this  was  the  only  earthly 
thing  they  carried  away  from  their  office. 

“The  whole  of  this  day  was  spent  like  the  last, 
except  that  we  went  over  the  house  looking  at  the 
busts  and  prints,  which  gave  an  English  air  to  the 
dwelling  which  was  otherwise  wholly  Virginian. 
During  all  our  conversations  one  or  another  slave 
was  perpetually  coming  to  Mrs.  Madison  for  the 
great  bunch  of  keys;  two  or  three  more  lounged 
233 


DOLLY  MADISON 


about  in  the  bouse,  leaning  against  the  door-posts, 
or  the  corner  of  the  sofa;  and  the  attendance 
of  others  was  no  less  indefatigable  in  my  own 
apartment.” 

Miss  Martineau’s  estimate  of  Mrs.  Madison 
is  of  especial  interest,  coming  as  it  does  from 
one  who  was  never  accused  of  flattering,  and 
whose  pen,  as  poor  Willis  could  bear  witness, 
was  capable  of  most  uncompromising  direct- 
ness. Yet  she,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  was 
conquered  by  the  charm  of  this  Virginia 
woman’s  personality.  She  says  of  her:  “She 
is  a strong-minded  woman,  fully  capable  of 
entering  into  her  husband’s  occupations  and 
cares,  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  he  owed 
much  to  her  intellectual  companionship,  as 
well  as  to  her  ability  in  sustaining  the  out- 
ward dignity  of  his  office.  When  I was  her 
guest  she  was  in  excellent  health  and  lively 
spirits,  and  I trust  that  though  she  has  lost 
the  great  object  of  her  life,  she  may  yet  find 
interests  enough  to  occupy  and  cheer  many 
years  of  an  honored  old  age.” 

We  gain  through  this  last  paragraph  a side- 
light on  Mrs.  Madison’s  power  not  only  to 
reflect  the  character  and  interests  of  those  who 
surrounded  her,  but  also  to  put  aside  her 
own  feelings,  and  even  her  own  physical  con- 
dition, to  minister  to  the  entertainment  of 
234 


VIRGINIA  HOSPITALITY 


her  guests.  As  a matter  of  fact,  neither  her 
health  nor  her  spirits  were  so  good  as  her 
visitor  fancied.  She  was  far  from  well,  and 
her  heart  was  still  sore  over  the  loss  of  her 
sister  Anna,  whose  death  she  never  ceased  to 
mourn,  as  well  as  full  of  anxiety  over  the 
growing  infirmities  of  her  husband,  who  lived 
little  more  than  a year  after  this  visit. 

As  long  as  his  health  permitted,  Madison 
no  less  than  his  wife  enjoyed  the  stay  of  his 
guests,  and  it  was  partly  for  his  diversion  that 
she  extended  so  many  invitations  to  their 
friends.  Montpellier  had  by  this  time  come 
to  be  considered  as  the  homestead,  almost  as 
much  by  Mrs.  Madison’s  family  as  by  that  of 
her  husband.  From  their  early  childhood  the 
Cutts  children  looked  upon  the  Orange  County 
estate  as  a second  home,  where  they  too  had  a 
right  to  a pride  in  its  possessions  and  associa- 
tions, its  miniatures  and  family  portraits,  its 
plate  and  its  heavy,  massive,  old-time  furniture. 
Here  they  spent  many  joyous  days  in  their 
youth,  and  here  they  returned  whenever  cir- 
cumstances permitted  in  after  life. 

When  James  Madison  Cutts  was  married,  in 
the  year  1834,  the  wedding  journey  was  made 
to  Montpellier.  As  the  coach  drew  up  before 
the  door,  Mr.  Madison  came  out,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  Paul  Jennings,  to  greet  the  guests, 
235 


DOLLY  MADISON 


and  though  too  feeble  to  join  the  family  at 
dinner,  he  stood  at  the  door  which  opened 
between  the  general  dining-room  and  his  own, 
and  raising  his  glass,  drank  to  the  health  of 
the  bride,  thinking  the  while  perchance  of  that 
other  bride  whom  he  had  brought  to  Mont- 
pellier forty  years  before. 

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236 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


Within  ten  years  after  their  return  to  Mont- 
pellier from  Washington,  the  shadows  had 
begun  to  gather  thicker  and  ever  thicker  about 
the  path  of  Mrs.  Madison  and  her  husband. 
The  lights  were  going  out  all  around.  Isolated 
as  they  were,  they  found  it  difficult  to  form 
new  acquaintances,  and  the  old  friends  one  by 
one  were  passing  away.  On  July  fourth,  1826, 
Jefferson  died.  His  loss  to  the  Madisons  was 
irreparable,  as  his  friendship  had  been  invalu- 
able. Only  a few  months  before  his  death 
Jefferson  had  written  to  Madison,  begging  him 
to  have  a care  of  the  University  of  Virginia, 
and  saying : “ To  myself  you  have  been  a pillar 
of  support  through  life.  Take  care  of  me 
when  dead,  and  be  assured  that  I shall  leave 
with  you  my  last  affections.”  His  will  re- 
iterated the  same  expressions  of  affection 
and  esteem,  declaring:  “I  give  to  my  old 
friend,  James  Madison  of  Montpellier,  my 
237 


DOLLY  MADISON 


gold-mounted  walking-staff  of  animal  horn, 
as  a token  of  the  cordial  and  affectionate 
friendship  which  for  nearly  now  an  half  century 
has  united  us  in  the  same  principles  and  pur- 
suits of  what  we  have  deemed  for  the  greatest 
good  of  our  country.” 

To  Mrs.  Madison  the  loss  of  such  a friend 
was  almost  as  great  a blow  as  it  could  be  to 
her  husband,  and  the  sorrow  was  deepened 
by  the  breaking  up  of  the  family,  which  the 
entangled  condition  of  Jefferson’s  estate  neces- 
sitated. A few  months  after  the  great  states- 
man’s death,  the  furniture  of  his  house  was 
sold  at  auction.  The  “ Madison  ” and  “ Correa” 
chambers  were  stripped  of  their  hangings,  and 
the  very  clock  which  for  years  had  stood  at 
the  head  of  Jefferson’s  bed  passed  into  the 
hands  of  strangers.  A year  later  Monticello 
itself  was  sold,  and  all  the  old  joyous  days 
of  visiting  and  merry-making  between  the 
Jefferson  and  Madison  households  were  at  an 
end. 

Three  years  after  the  sale  of  Monticello  the 
Madisons  lost  the  companionship  of  another 
old  and  valued  neighbor,  James  Monroe,  who 
retired  from  the  presidency  a poor  man,  and 
at  last  found  himself  compelled  to  part  with 
Oak  Hill,  his  country-place,  which  lay  in 
238 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


Loudoun  County,  Virginia,  not  very  far  from 
Montpellier.  In  1831  he  wrote  a pathetic 
letter  to  Madison,  dated  from  New  York, 
April  eleventh,  in  which  he  says  that  he  finds 
the  care  of  his  estate  so  burdensome,  and 
its  loneliness  so  distressing,  that  he  has  de- 
cided to  remove  to  New  York  to  be  near  his 
daughter,  Mrs.  Gouverneur.  He  proposes  to 
resign  his  seat  in  the  Board  of  the  University 
of  Virginia,  and  predicts  gloomily  that  he 
and  Madison  will  never  meet  again.  “ I 
beg  you,”  he  says  in  closing,  “to  assure 
Mrs.  Madison  that  I never  can  forget  the 
friendly  relation  which  has  existed  between 
her  and  my  family.  It  often  reminds  me  of 
incidents  of  the  most  interesting  character.” 

To  this  Madison  replied  at  once,  and  in  his 
warmest  manner,  assuring  him  of  the  un- 
changeable regard  of  himself  and  Mrs.  Madi- 
son, and  urging  him  to  retain,  for  the  present 
at  least,  his  position  on  the  Board  of  the 
University.  But  three  months  later  James 
Monroe  died  (on  the  fourth  of  July,  like  Adams 
and  Jefferson),  and  so  another  homestead  was 
deserted  and  another  cld  friend  was  lost  to 
James  and  Dolly  Madison. 

Death  struck  nearer  home  than  the  circle 
of  friends  during  these  years.  In  1829,  at  the 

239 


DOLLY  MADISON 


age  of  ninety-seven,  Mrs.  Madison’s  mother-in- 
law  passed  away,  and  was  carried  to  her  long 
rest  in  the  little  burying-ground  below  the  hill. 
In  February,  1831,  news  reached  Montpellier 
of  the  death  of  “ Cousin  Dolly  ” for  whom  Mrs. 
Madison  was  named ; and  on  an  August  day  in 
1832  the  beloved  “sister-child,”  Anna  Payne 
Cutts,  died  somewhat  suddenly,  after  an  ill- 
ness in  which  a brief  and  deceptive  improve- 
ment had  led  her  family  to  believe  that  her  life 
might  be  spared.  It  was  indeed  a deep  and  sore 
affliction,  and  one  which  aged  and  permanently 
saddened  Mrs.  Madison.  It  was  perhaps  well 
for  her  that  her  attention  was  so  absorbed  by 
her  care  of  her  husband  that  she  could  find 
little  time  for  the  indulgence  of  grief.  Every 
day  her  company  and  assistance  gi’ew  more 
essential  to  Madison’s  welfare.  She  became 
not  only  his  nurse  and  companion,  but  his 
eyes  and  right  hand.  She  was,  indeed,  as  she 
described  herself,  the  very  shadow  of  her 
husband. 

The  summer  of  1829  was  marked  by  a cheer- 
ing diversion  in  a visit  paid  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Madison  to  Richmond  at  the  time  of  the  Con- 
stitutional Convention,  of  which  Madison  was 
a member.  From  Governor  Giles  they  received 
the  following  cordial  invitation : • — 

240 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


Richmond,  August  10th,  1829. 
Mf  and  Mr.s  Madison  : — 

My  Dear  Sir  and  Madam,  — Permit  me  to 
assure  you  I was  very  much  gratified  that  your  Dis- 
trict had  honored  the  state  so  far  as  to  place  you, 
Sir,  in  the  Convention  for  altering  or  amending  the 
Constitution.  It  is  at  the  same  time  with  sincere 
sorrow  and  concern  I have  learnt  that  the  state 
of  your  health  has,  since  that  time,  ban  [sic]  im- 
paired by  indisposition  ; but  I earnestly  hope  that 
it  is  already  completely  restored,  or  will  be,  at  least, 
so  far  improved  as  to  enable  you  to  take  your  seat 
in  the  Convention,  and  to  afford  that  important 
service  to  the  state  which  it  justly  anticipates  from 
your  weight  of  character,  superior  intelligence,  and 
long  experience  in  public  affairs.  I beg  leave  also, 
Sir  and  Madam,  to  assure  you  that  I still  recollect, 
with  affectionate  sensibilities,  your  kind  attentions 
during  a long  personal  acquaintance,  and  that  it 
would  now  afford  me  great  pleasure  if  yourselves  and 
intimates  would  consent  to  become  members  of  my 
family,  and  to  accept  a chamber  in  the  government 
house  during  the  session  of  the  approaching  Con- 
vention. That  position  would  afford  you  some  ac- 
commodations which  it  might  be  difficult  to  obtain 
in  any  house  of  public  entertainment  in  the  city. 
It  is  retired,  near  the  Capitol,  and  would  afford  you 
opportunities  of  receiving  visits  from  your  numerous 
friends  with  more  ease  and  convenience  to  your- 
selves than  perhaps  elsewhere.  Permit  me  to  press 
your  acceptance  of  this  invitation,  and  to  assure  you 
16  211 


DOLLY  MADISON 


in  so  doing  you  would  afford  the  sincerest  pleasure 
to  myself,  as  well  as  to  every  member  of  my  family. 

Be  pleased,  Sir  and  Madam,  to  accept  my  re- 
spectful and  friendly  regards. 

W”  B.  Giles. 

[Addressed] 

The  Honorable 

James  Madison  and  Lady, 

Montpelier. 

This  visit  to  Richmond  brought  to  Mrs. 
Madison  several  weeks  of  gayety  and  social 
enjoyment,  such  as  she  had  scarcely  known 
since  her  return  to  Virginia. 

The  twenty  years  of  life  at  Montpellier  after 
leaving  Washington  were  no  less  busy  for 
Madison  than  the  years  of  official  duties.  “ I 
have  rarely,”  he  wrote,  “during  the  period  of 
my  public  life  found  my  time  less  at  my  dis- 
posal than  since  1 took  my  leave  of  it;  nor 
have  I the  consolation  of  finding  that  as  my 
powers  of  application  necessarily  decline  the 
demands  on  them  proportionately  decrease.” 
His  advice  on  political  matters  was  constantly 
sought  by  men  in  every  public  office,  and  the 
heavy  volumes  filled  with  letters,  pages  in 
length,  written  in  his  fine,  painstaking  hand, 
show  clearly  enough  how  just  was  this  com- 
plaint. His  duties  in  connection  with  the 
university  were  specially  onerous,  because  the} 
242 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


took  him  from  the  home  to  which  he  clung 
more  and  more  tenaciously  as  his  health  and 
strength  failed.  These  trips  to  Charlottesville 
were  often  sources  of  anxiety  to  his  wife  as 
well,  and  a letter  written  by  her  on  this  occa- 
sion shows  how  tenderly  she  watched  over  and 
cared  for  her  husband’s  health.  As  I unfolded 
its  yellow  page,  and  turned  its  faded  ink  to 
the  light,  I mused  on  the  strange  vicissitudes 
which  had  brought  it  under  alien  eyes. 

Monday,  — 9 O’Clock. 

My  Beloved,  — I trust  in  God  that  you  are 
well  again,  as  your  letters  assure  me  you  are.  How 
bitterly  I regret  not  going  with  you!  Yours  of 
“ Friday  midday  ” did  not  reach  me  till  last  evg. 
I felt  so  full  of  fear  that  you  might  relapse  that  I 
hastened  to  pack  a few  cloaths  and  give  orders  for 
the  carriage  to  be  ready  and  the  post  waited  for. 
This  mor’g,  happily  the  messenger  has  returned 
with  your  letter  of  yesterday,  which  revives  my 
heart  and  leads  me  to  hope  you  will  be  up  at  home 
on  Wednesday  night  with  your  own  affectionate 
nurse.  If  business  sh’d  detain  you  longer  — or  you 
sh’d  feel  unwell  again,  let  me  come  for  you.  Mama 
and  all  are  well.  I enclose  you  one  letter.  The 
only  one  rec’d  by  yesterday’s  post,  with  two  latest 
papers,  to  read  on  your  journey  back.  I hope  you 
rec’d  my  last  of  Thursday  containing  letters  and 
papers.  My  mind  is  so  anxiously  occupied  about 
243 


DOLLY  MADISON 


you  that  I cannot  write.  May  angels  guard  thee, 
my  dear  best  friend! 

I) . 

Address, 


To  James  Madison, 

University. 


Tuesday  mor’g. 


The  amount  which  Madison  accomplished 
under  all  his  physical  limitations  adds  another 
to  the  instances  which  go  to  show  how  vast  a 
proportion  of  the  world’s  work  is  done  by  the 
physically  weak.  From  the  time  of  leaving- 
college,  when  he  believed  himself  doomed  to 
an  early  grave,  until  the  day  when  at  eighty- 
live  years  of  age  he  tranquilly  closed  his  eyes 
forever  upon  earth,  he  never  knew  a year  of 
robust  vigor  or  abounding  vitality ; yet  the 
body  of  his  work  is  indeed  a monument  more 
enduring  than  brass.  His  longevity  and  his 
prolonged  ability  for  work  were  in  large 
measure  due  to  the  constant  care  given  by  his 
wife  to  all  the  conditions  affecting  his  well- 
being, and  to  the  unselfish  devotion  with  which 
she  sought  to  take  upon  her  own  shoulders  the 
domestic  and  social  cares  which  weighed  more 
and  more  heavily  upon  his  declining  years. 

The  overseeing  of  an  estate  like  Montpellier 
was  in  itself  a life-business.  The  slaves,  who 
numbered  more  than  a hundred,  were  not 
244 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


intrusted  to  tlie  unregulated  brutality  of  an 
overseer,  but  were  directed  and  disciplined  by 
the  master  himself.  He  never  struck  a ser- 
vant, nor  allowed  another  to  do  it.  So  careful 
was  he  of  their  feelings  that  he  took  pains  to 
administer  even  his  reproofs  in  private,  and 
with  that  habitual  gentleness  which  led  all 
who  knew  him  to  love  him.  As  long  as  he 
was  able  to  walk  about  he  enjoyed  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  farm,  the  regulation  of  crops, 
and  the  cultivation  of  foreign  trees  and  shrubs 
sent  him  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  some  of 
which,  like  the  Lebanon  cedars,  still  stand  as 
witnesses  of  his  fostering  care. 

His  chief  recreation  in  the  latter  years  was 
driving.  He  dearly  loved  horses.  No  man 
had  a better  eye  for  the  points  of  a fine  animal, 
and  no  jockey  ever  succeeded  in  cheating  him. 
In  the  Washington  stable  there  were  always 
at  least  seven  horses,  and  at  Montpellier,  of 
course,  many  more.  On  the  Virginia  planta- 
tion, at  a distance  of  perhaps  a hundred  yards 
from  the  house,  across  the  lawn  in  the  rear, 
the  stable  built  by  Madison  still  raises  its 
sharp  gable  from  among  thick-growing  trees 
and  shrubbery  well  planned  to  hide  its  less 
interesting  features. 

As  rheumatism  and  old  age  grew  more  and 
more  crippling,  Madison  gave  up  one  out- 
245 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of-door  pursuit  after  another,  abandoning 
even  his  customary  measured  walk  on  the 
porch,  and  at  length  resigned  himself  with 
philosophy,  if  not  with  cheerfulness,  to  the 
monotonous  routine  of  an  invalid’s  life.  His 
little  room  which  opened  out  to  the  rear  of 
the  dining-room  now  bounded  his  world.  It 
held  a high-posted  bed  with  crimson  damask 
canopy  brought  from  the  Tuileries  by  Monroe, 
besides  his  desk,  couch,  chairs,  and  the  table 
whereat  he  took  his  meals.  When  the  door 
was  open  he  could  hear  the  cheerful  echo  of 
the  talk  at  the  dining-room  table,  and  often 
called  out  jovial  answers  and  questions,  once 
bidding  the  doctor  who  sat  at  the  foot  of  the 
table  to  do  his  duty  under  penalty  of  being 
cashiered.  He  loved  a jest  to  the  end.  When 
some  one  urged  him  not  to  talk  in  his  recum- 
bent position,  he  answered,  “ Oh ! I always 
talk  more  easily  when  I lie.” 

Sad  as  Mrs.  Madison’s  heart  was  at  the 
sight  of  her  husband’s  increasing  feebleness, 
she  seconded  his  attempts  at  cheerfulness, 
drew  company  to  the  house  as  long  as  it 
amused  him,  and  shut  it  out  when  he  grew  too 
weak  to  bear  the  confusion.  For  eight  months 
she  never  went  beyond  the  gates  of  Montpellier, 
and  as  the  end  drew  near,  in  the  month  of 
June,  1836,  she  was  seldom  absent  from  the 
246 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


sick-room  for  more  than  a few  minutes  at  a 
time.  Paul  Jennings  was  her  faithful  assist- 
ant in  her  ministrations  He  says  in  his 
Reminiscences : — 

“ I was  always  with  Mr.  Madison  till  he  died, 
and  shaved  him  every  other  day  for  sixteen  years. 
For  six  months  before  his  death  he  was  unable  to 
walk,  and  spent  most  of  his  time  reclined  on  a 
couch;  but  his  mind  was  bright,  and  with  his  nu- 
merous visitors  he  talked  with  as  much  animation 
and  strength  of  voice  as  I ever  heard  him  in  his 
best  days. 

“ I was  absent  when  he  died.  That  morning 
Sukey  brought  him  his  breakfast  as  usual.  He 
could  not  swallow.  His  niece,  Mrs.  Willis,  said, 
‘What  is  the  matter,  Uncle  James?’  ‘ Hothing 
more  than  a change  of  mind,  my  dear.’  His  head 
instantly  dropped,  and  he  ceased  breathing  as 
quietly  as  the  snuff  of  a candle  goes  out.” 

So  died  this  great  and  good  man,  passing 
away  with  a jest  and  a kindly  smile  upon  his 
gentle  lips,  as  befitted  the  end  of  a simple, 
gentle  life.  The  interment  was  in  the  little 
burying-ground  where  others  of  his  family  had 
been  laid  before  him.  The  pall-hearers  were 
neighboring  planters,  the  Barbour  brothers, 
Charles,  Howard,  and  Reuben  Conway.  A 
sad  procession  of  relatives,  friends,  and  ser- 
vants followed  the  body  to  the  grave,  wherein 
247 


DOLLY  MADISON 


James  Madison  was  laid  to  rest,  and  then  all 
was  over.  Another  chapter  in  Dolly  Madison’s 
life  was  closed  forever,  and  for  the  thirteen 
years  that  remained  to  her  she  went  forward 
alone  forever,  missing  that  wise  counsel  and 
firm  support  which  had  so  long  been  hers. 

She  met  the  blow  bravely,  as  she  faced  every 
sorrow  that  came  to  her  in  life,  determined 
that  the  gloom  should  overshadow  as  little  as 
possible  the  lives  of  those  around  her.  But 
the  strain  of  her  long  months  of  anxious  nurs- 
ing was  too  great  for  her  physical  strength, 
and  within  a few  months  after  Madison’s  death 
the  inevitable  re-action  came,  and  her  health 
failed  utterly.  The  old  trouble  with  her  eyes 
increased  to  such  an  extent  that  she  was  com- 
pelled for  weeks  to  keep  her  bed,  with  the 
curtains  closely  drawn  to  shut  out  every  ray 
of  light. 

The  sad  days  of  sickness  and  sorrow  in  Mrs. 
Madison’s  early  widowhood  were  comforted 
by  letters  of  sympathy  which  poured  in  upon 
her  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  letters 
so  full  of  admiration  and  esteem  for  her 
dead  husband  that  he  seemed  to  live  again 
in  the  heartfelt  love  and  appreciation  of  his 
countrymen. 

One  of  the  earliest  as  well  as  the  most 
important  of  these  letters  was  written  by 
248 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


Andrew  Jackson,  and  accompanied  by  a copy 
of  the  resolutions  drawn  up  in  the  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives  in  W ashington,  when 
the  death  of  Madison  was  announced. 

Washington,  July,  9,  1836. 

Madam,  — It  appearing  to  have  been  the  inten- 
tion of  Congress  to  make  me  the  organ  of  assuring 
you  of  the  profound  respect  entertained  by  both  its 
branches  for  your  person  and  character,  and  of  their 
sincere  condolence  in  the  late  afflicting  dispensa- 
tion of  Providence,  which  has  at  once  deprived  you 
of  a beloved  companion,  and  your  country  of  one 
of  its  most  valued  citizens,  I perform  that  duty 
by  transmitting  the  documents  herewith  enclosed. 

No  expression  of  my  own  sensibility  at  the  loss 
sustained  by  yourself  and  the  nation  could  add  to 
the  consolation  to  he  derived  from  these  high 
evidences  of  the  public  sympathy.  Be  assured, 
madam,  that  there  is  not  one  of  your  countrymen 
who  feels  more  poignantly  the  blow  which  has 
fallen  upon  you,  or  who  will  cherish  with  a more 
enduring  constancy  the  memory  of  the  virtues, 
the  services,  and  the  purity  of  the  illustrious  man 
whose  glorious  and  patriotic  life  has  just  been 
terminated  by  a tranquil  death. 

I have  the  honor  to  he,  madam,  your  most 
obedient  servant, 

Andrew  Jackson. 

To  Mrs.  D.  P.  Madison, 

Montpellier,  Virginia. 

249 


DOLLY  MADISON 


The  response  of  Mrs.  Maclison  is  marked  by 
a fitness  and  dignity  altogether  admirable. 
It  is  dated  Montpellier,  August  twentieth, 
1836,  and  runs : — ■ 

I received,  sir,  in  due  time,  your  letter  con- 
veying to  me  the  resolutions  Congress  were  pleased 
to  adopt  on  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  my  beloved 
husband,  — A communication  made,  the  more 
grateful  by  the  kind  expression  of  your  synptathy 
which  it  contained. 

The  high  and  just  estimation  of  my  husband 
by  my  countrymen  and  friends,  and  their  generous 
participation  in  the  sorrow  occasioned  by  our  irre- 
trievable loss  (expressed  through  their  supreme 
authorities  and  otherwise)  are  the  only  solace  of 
which  my  heart  is  susceptible  on  the  departure  of 
him  who  had  never  lost  sight  of  that  consistency, 
symmetry  and  beauty  of  character  in  all  its  parts, 
which  secured  to  him  the  love  and  admiration  of 
his  country,  and  which  must  ever  be  the  subject 
of  peculiar  and  tender  reverence  to  one  whose 
happiness  was  derived  from  their  daily  and 
constant  exercise. 

The  best  return  I can  make  for  the  sympathy 
of  my  country  is  to  fulfil  the  sacred  trust  his  con- 
fidence reposed  in  me,  that  of  placing  before  it  and 
the  world  what  his  pen  prepared  for  their  use,  — a 
legacy  the  importance  of  which  is  deeply  impressed 
on  my  mind. 

With  great  respect, 

13.  P.  Madison. 

To  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

250 


LAST  DAYS  AT  MONTPELLIER 


The  sacred  trust  herein  referred  to  was  the 
publication  of  that  marvellous  report  of  the 
proceedings  of  the  Constitutional  Convention, 
written  out  daily  and  with  absolute  accuracy 
of  detail  by  the  untiring  hand  of  Madison, 
who  had  the  foresight  to  realize  how  enor- 
mously valuable  such  records  would  be  to  the 
world  in  after  times. 

In  his  will,  bearing  date  April  fifteenth, 
1835,  the  year  before  his  death,  he  directs  what 
use  shall  be  made  of  this  valuable  manuscript. 
In  the  beginning  he  declares : “ I give  all  my 
personal  estate  of  every  description,  orna- 
mental as  well  as  useful,  except  as  hereinafter 
otherwise  given,  to  my  dear  wife ; and  I also 
give  to  her  all  my  manuscript  papers,  having 
entire  confidence  in  her  discreet  and  proper 
use  of  them,  but  subject  to  the  qualification  in 
the  succeeding  clause.” 

After  stating  that  he  desires  that  his  report 
of  the  Constitutional  Convention  at  Philadel- 
phia, in  1787,  be  published,  he  continues:  “It 
is  my  desire  that  the  report  as  made  by  me 
should  be  published  under  her  authority  and 
direction;  and  as  the  publication  thereof  may 
yield  a considerable  amount  beyond  the  neces- 
sary expenses  thereof,  I give  the  net  proceeds 
thereof  to  my  wife,  charged  with  the  following 
to  be  paid  out  of  that  fund  only.  ” The  lega- 
251 


DOLLY  MADISON 


cies  afterward  mentioned  amounted  to  about 
fifteen  hundred  dollars. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  eager  to  set  about  the 
task  imposed  upon  her  of  superintending  the 
publication  of  this  manuscript,  but  her  eyes 
for  some  time  were  too  weak.  At  length,  in 
the  spring  of  1837,  by  the  earnest  advice  of 
her  physician,  she  left  Montpellier  to  seek  the 
benefits  of  change  of  scene  for  her  mind,  and 
of  the  mountain  air  and  healing  waters  at  the 
White  Sulphur  Springs  for  her  bodily  ail- 
ments. The  prescription  proved  so  successful 
that  she  returned  to  her  home  at  the  end  of 
August  in  greatly  improved  health,  and  with 
some  restoration  of  her  old  cheerfulness. 

Her  brother  at  this  time  left  Virginia  for 
Kentucky,  and  Mrs.  Madison,  greatly  de- 
pressed by  the  prospect  of  a solitary  winter 
in  the  isolation  of  Montpellier,  begged  to 
have  his  daughter  Anna  left  with  her.  The 
arrangement  was  finally  made,  and  this  beloved 
niece  became  her  adopted  daughter  in  fact, 
and  later  in  name. 


252 


XIV 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 

Lovely  Lafayette  Square,  spoken  of  by  Mrs. 
Madison  as  “President’s  Square,”  lies  in  tlie 
heart  of  historic  Washington.  Here  once  the 
apples  from  Davy  Burns’  orchard  strewed  the 
ground;  here  later  generations  of  children 
played ; here  Downing  planned  vistas  and 
planted  trees,  and  here  General  Jackson  in 
bronze  still  waves  his  hat  to  posterity  from 
the  back  of  that  preposterous  steed  forever 
perilously  poised  in  air  on  its  hind  feet.  On 
the  northeast  corner  of  this  little  park  stands 
a square,  solid  mansion  now  owned  by  the 
Cosmos  Club,  but  always  pointed  out  to 
strangers  as  “ Dolly  Madison’s  house.  ” With- 
in its  walls  she  spent  the  last  twelve  years  of 
her  life,  and  there  she  died.  Despite  some 
alterations  and  restorations,  it  still  remains 
substantially  the  same  as  in  her  lifetime. 

It  was  built  by  Richard  Cutts  at  about 
the  time  of  Madison’s  presidency;  and  Mrs. 
Madison’s  much-loved  sister  Anna,  with  her 
253 


DOLLY  MADISON 


family,  occupied  it.  for  many  years.  Mr.  Cutts 
lost  heavily  during  the  war  of  1812,  and  later 
became  involved  in  unfortunate  mining  ven- 
tures, so  that  at  last  he  was  compelled  to 
part  with  his  house,  and  it  came  into  the 
hands  of  Madison.  It  was  to  this  house,  there- 
fore, rich  in  family  associations,  that  Mrs. 
Madison  came  with  her  niece,  Anna  Payne, 
when  Montpellier  in  its  solitude  became  insup- 
portable ; and  here,  within  sight  of  the  White 
House,  where  she  had  spent  such  happy  and 
brilliant  days,  she  established  once  more  her 
household  gods. 

The  Washington  to  which  she  thus  returned 
after  twenty  years  was  a different  city  from  that 
which  she  had  left.  The  houses  had  grown 
thicker  along  the  thoroughfares;  throngs  of 
people  walked  the  streets  which  had  formerly 
been  like  country  lanes.  The  White  House 
had  attained  to  the  dignity  of  Brussels  carpets 
in  the  drawing-rooms  and  silken  curtains  at 
the  windows,  French  mirrors  on  the  walls,  and 
English  chandeliers  hanging  from  the  ceiling. 
Yet,  with  all  these  advances,  there  was  already 
a something  lost,  a delicate  evasive  flavor  of 
aristocracy,  a ione  of  deprecating  refinement,  a 
gentle,  remonstrant,  spiritual  aloofness  which 
held  the  crowd  at  bowing  distance.  All  this 
was  gone.  The  reign  of  triumphant  democracy 
254 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


was  at  hand.  The  curious  crowds  surged 
through  the  White  House,  and  the  custom  of 
hand-shaking  already  threatened  the  nation’s 
chief  with  a new  terror. 

One  of  the  presidents  (Mrs.  Madison’s  warm 
friend  and  admirer,  James  K.  Polk),  reduced 
the  matter  of  official  hand-shaking  to  a science : 
“If  a man,”  he  said,  “surrender  his  arm  to 
be  shaken  hy  one  horizontally,  by  another  per- 
pendicularly, and  by  another  with  a strong 
grip,  he  cannot  fail  to  suffer  severely  from  it ; 
but  if  he  will  shake  and  not  be  shaken,  grip 
and  not  be  gripped,  taking  care  always  to 
squeeze  the  hand  of  his  adversary  as  hard  as 
the  adversary  squeezes  his,  he  will  suffer  no 
inconvenience  from  it.  Now,”  he  added,  “I 
can  generally  anticipate  a strong  grip  from  a 
strong  man,  and  I then  take  advantage  of  him 
by  being  quicker  than  he,  and  seizing  him  by 
the  tip  of  his  fingers.” 

We  can  fancy  that  all  this  familiarity  and 
lack  of  courtliness  must  have  come  with  some- 
what of  a shock  upon  one  who  had  presided 
over  the  more  elegant  society  of  the  earlier 
time ; but  her  tact  as  usual  kept  her  silent 
where  comment  would  have  wounded,  and  she 
dropped  at  once  into  the  new  order  of  things, 
establishing  a sort  of  court  of  her  own,  and 
recognized  throughout  the  rest  of  her  life  as 
255 


DOLLY  MADISON 


a queen  dowager.  Once,  indeed,  at  a ball  she 
turned  to  her  companion  and  said,  “ What  a 
difference  twenty  years  make  in  society ! Here 
are  young  men  and  women  not  born  when  I 
left  the  capita],  whose  names  are  familiar,  but 
whose  faces  are  unknown  to  me.” 

Many  strangers  and  foreigners  came  to 
Washington  in  these  years,  and  all  were 
brought  to  see  the  widow  of  the  famous  states- 
man, who  now  began  to  be  known  as  “the 
venerable  Mrs.  Madison.”  The  old-fashioned 
gown  and  turban,  to  which  she  clung  in  spite 
of  the  fickle  changes  of  fashion,  doubtless  con- 
tributed to  the  impression  of  her  advanced 
age,  and  she  was  associated  with  her  hus- 
band’s period  by  those  who  did  not  know  the 
difference  in  their  ages. 

A certain  air  of  vagueness  always  hung 
about  her  age,  owing  to  the  fact  that  she  was 
understood  to  be  somewhat  sensitive  in  the 
matter,  which  was  rarely  mentioned  even  in 
her  own  family.  In  fact,  it  was  generally  con- 
sidered in  those  days  an  incivility  to  keep  too 
close  an  account  of  the  advance  of  time,  and 
although  Mrs.  Madison’s  birthday  was  always 
celebrated  in  the  family  circle,  no  comment 
was  made  upon  the  number  of  years  it  marked, 
till  on  one  such  occasion  a little  nephew  rashly 
exclaimed,  “Why,  aunty,  you  are  just  the 
256 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


same  age  to-day  that  you  were  on  your  last 
birthday  ! ” The  family  were  aghast,  but  Mrs. 
Madison  patted  him  on  the  head  with  undis- 
turbed tranquillity  and  smilingly  responded, 
“ So  you  remember,  my  little  man  ! ” 

In  opite  of  her  efforts  to  seem  and  to  look 
young,  her  age  was  generally  exaggerated. 
Mrs.  Maury,  who  saw  her  in  her  latter  days, 
writes  of  her  as  bearing  herself  with  regal 
grace,  “ still  at  the  age  of  eighty-six  eminently 
beautiful,  with  a complexion  as  fresh  and  fair 
and  a skin  as  smooth  as  that  of  an  English 
girl.”  Philip  Hone,  the  New  York  merchant, 
makes  a record  in  his  journal  for  March,  1842, 
of  a visit  to  Mrs.  Webster’s  drawing-room  and 
his  subsequent  call  upon  Mrs.  Madison.  “ She 
is  a young  lady  of  fourscore  years  and  upward,  ” 
he  says;  “goes  to  parties  and  receives  com- 
pany like  the  Queen  of  this  new  world.  ” At 
this  time  she  could  not  have  been  over 
seventy-four. 

Another  visitor  at  Washington  in  this  year 
was  Charles  Dickens,  who  recorded  his  impres- 
sion of  that  city  with  the  same  genial  courtesy 
which  mai'ks  all  his  comments  upon  America. 
His  description,  however,  is  so  vivid  that  it  is 
worth  noting  as  a picture  of  Mrs.  Madison’s 
surroundings  as  they  struck  alien  eyes.  He 
urges  his  English  reader  to  take  in  imagina- 
17  257 


DOLLY  MADISON 


tion  the  worst  parts  of  the  City  Road  and 
Pentonville,  — 

“burn  the  whole  down;  build  it  up  again  in 
plaster;  widen  it  a little;  throw  in  part  of  St. 
John’s  Wood,  put  green  blinds  outside  all  the 
private  houses,  with  a red  curtain  and  a white  one 
in  every  window;  plough  up  all  the  roads;  plant 
a great  deal  of  coarse  turf  in  every  place  where  it 
ought  not  to  be;  erect  three  handsome  buildings 
in  stone  and  marble  anywhere;  but  the  more 
entirely  out  of  every-one’s  way  the  better;  call 
one  the  Post  Office  and  one  the  Treasury;  make  it 
scorching  hot  in  the  morning  and  freezing  cold  in 
the  afternoon  with  an  occasional  tornado  of  wind 
and  dust;  leave  a brickfield  without  the  bricks  in 
all  places  where  a street  may  naturally  be  expected 
— and  that’s  Washington.” 

Crude  and  provincial  as  the  national  capital 
no  doubt  appeared  to  foreign  eyes,  to  Dolly 
Madison,  who  had  been  shut  up  for  a score  of 
years  to  the  seclusion  of  a Virginia  plantation, 
it  presented  a bewildering  scene  of  fashion 
and  gayety,  and  as  the  period  of  her  mourning 
wore  away  she  began  by  degrees  to  take  up 
her  old  life  in  the  gay  world. 

Although  the  straitened  condition  of  her 
finances  hampered  her  in  the  exercise  of  her 
old-time  hospitality,  the  sum  of  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars  paid  to  Mrs.  Madison  by  Congress, 
258 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


for  the  Reports  of  the  Constitutional  Conven- 
tion, together  with  the  amount  left  by  her 
husband,  would  have  enabled  her  to  live  with 
comfort,  if  not  with  elegance,  in  her  new  home, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  misconduct  of  her  son. 
But  what  fortune  ever  sufficed  for  the  demands 
of  a gambler,  a spendthrift,  and  debauchee ! It 
soon  became  necessary  to  sell  Montpellier  to 
meet  the  debts  incurred  by  Payne  Todd ; and 
his  mother,  though  striving  with  pathetic  self- 
sacrifice  to  keep  a brave  front  to  the  world, 
was  often  reduced  to  the  verge  of  actual 
necessity. 

In  these  financial  straits  she  wrote  from 
Washington  to  her  son,  addressing  him  with 
unwonted  formality  as  “ My  dear  sir.” 

“I  beg,  you  will  sign  & return  the  enclosed  as 
soon  as  possible,  as  I wish  to  return  them  to  the 
Bank  before  the  7a  I have  hope  & expectation  of 
your  writing  rue  all  about  yourself,  & my  affairs. 
Will  you  tell  me  whether  or  not  Mr  Monchor 
[ sic ] will  pay  me  the  remnant  due.  I shall  say 
nothing  to  him  at  this  instant  of  the  sufferings  he 
now  causes  by  his  delay,  but  upon  the  rec*  & con- 
tents, of  an  early  letter  from  you,  depends  my 
taking  the  Boat,  or  going  by  way  of  Richmond  to 
your  house. 

“ But  one  short  note  from  you  since  we  parted  — • 
once  I wrote  to  you  — I send  you  papers. 

259 


DOLLY  MADISON 


“Farewell!  I'm  not  well  or  should  say  more. 
Mf  Simms  lias  sent  me  a Bill  for  nearly  50  $ — 
— Again  — burn  my  letters  of  business.” 

Paul  Jennings,  who  had  bought  his  freedom 
from  Mrs.  Madison,  and  was  now  living  with 
Daniel  Webster,  often  brought  to  his  old  mis- 
tress little  gifts  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  and 
even  market-baskets  full  of  provisions,  sup- 
plied by  the  thoughtful  kindness  of  his  new 
master.  In  her  old  age  Dolly  Madison  became 
a sort  of  nation’s  ward;  and  Congress,  de- 
termined to  protect  her  from  the  depredations 
of  her  undutiful  and  worthless  son,  made  a 
second  purchase,  this  time  of  Madison’s  letters 
and  other  writings,  for  which  it  paid  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  with  the  proviso  that  the 
funds  he  held  in  trust  for  Mrs.  Madison,  and 
named  as  trustees  James  Buchanan,  John  Y. 
Mason,  and  Richard  Smith. 

As  though  it  could  not  do  enough  to  show 
respect  to  the  widow  of  James  Madison,  both 
on  her  own  account  and  in  memory  of  her 
venerated  husband,  Congress  also  voted  her 
the  franking  privilege  and  a seat  on  the  floor 
of  the  House  whenever  she  chose  to  attend  its 
sessions,  an  honor  never  before  granted  to  a 
woman. 

The  presence  of  women  in  the  galleries  of 
the  House  of  Representatives  was  a new  sight 
200 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


to  Mrs.  Madison,  as  in  her  day  they  had  been 
excluded  in  accordance  with  Eng'lish  prece- 
dent. It  is  related  that  their  admission  dated 
from  an  evening  when  a lady  meeting  Fisher 
Ames  at  a party  expressed  her  regret  that  she 
should  not  be  able  to  hear  the  speech  which 
he  was  to  make.  Ames  replied  that  he  knew  of 
no  law  against  her  coming,  and  it  was  accord- 
ingly arranged  that  she  should  make  up  a 
party  of  ladies  for  the  occasion.  They  came 
and  were  admitted,  and  ever  after  women 
continued  to  claim  the  privilege  thus  granted. 

The  little  world  of  Washington  society  paid 
homage  to  Mrs.  Madison  as  gladly  as  the 
representatives  of  the  nation.  On  public  holi- 
days, such  as  the  Fourth  of  July  and  New 
Year’s  Day,  her  doors  stood  open,  and  the 
throng  of  people  who  had  paid  their  respects 
to  the  President  at  the  White  House  trooped 
across  the  square  to  offer  greetings  to  the 
“dowager.”  A young  grand-niece  who  was 
present  at  one  of  the  levees  in  the  old  corner 
house  has  recorded  her  childish  impressions 
of  the  scene.  She  writes : — 

“ The  earliest  recollections  I have  of  Aunt  Madi- 
son are  associated  with  a lovely  day  in  May  or 
June,  when,  arrayed  in  our  best,  my  brother  and  I 
accompanied  our  mother  across  the  ragged  little 
square  opposite  the  White  House.  We  were 
261 


DOLLY  MADISON 


ushered  in  by  Ralph,  the  young  negro,  who  had 
succeeded  Paul,  so  well  known  as  Mr.  Madison’s 
body-servant  in  old  times.  We  were  announced 
as  ‘young  Master  and  Miss.’  My  mother  was 
‘Miss  Ellen.’  This  was  called  Mrs.  Madison’s 
Levee-Da}',  and  everybody  came,  much  as  they  do 
now  to  make  a short  visit,  gossip  a little,  then 
give  place  to  new-comers.  Aunt  stood  near  the 
window.  I was  a curious  little  girl  only  eight  or 
nine  years  of  age,  and  my  wide-open  eyes  saw  a 
very  sweet-looking  lady,  tall  and  very  erect.  She 
greeted  us  affectionately,  and  told  us  to  go  with 
Cousin  Anna  (Anna  Payne),  who  would  amuse  the 
young  people.  I clung  to  m3'  mother’s  hand  and 
took  observations  after  the  manner  of  children  in 
general. 

“ Aunt  Madison  wore  a purple  velvet  dress, 
with  plain  straight  skirt  amply  gathered  to  a tight 
waist,  cut  low  and  filled  in  with  soft  tulle.  Her 
pretty  white  throat  was  encircled  by  a lace  cra- 
vatte,  such  as  the  old-fashioned  gentlemen  used  to 
wear,  tied  twice  around  and  fastened  with  an 
amethyst  pin  (which  I remember,  as  Aunt  after- 
wards gave  my  mother  the  earrings  to  correspond 
and  I was  sometimes  allowed  to  wear  them). 
Thrown  lightly  over  the  shoulders  was  a little 
lace  shawl  or  cape  as  in  her  portrait.  I thought 
her  turban  very  wonderful,  as  I never  saw  any 
one  else  wear  such  a head-dress.  It  was  made  of 
some  soft  silky  material  and  became  her  rarely. 

“ There  were  two  little  bunches  of  very  black 
262 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


curls  on  either  side  of  the  smooth  white  brow;  her 
eyes  were  blue  and  laughed  when  she  smiled  and 
greeted  the  friends  who  seemed  so  glad  to  see  her. 
I wondered  at  her  smooth,  soft  slrin,  as  I was  told 
that  she  was  over  seventy,  which  at  that  time  was 
a great  age  to  me. 

“ A throng  of  people  passed  in  and  out,  among 
them  some  old  ladies,  whom  I have  since  heard  of 
as  the  wives  of  men  known  to  fame.  There  was 
Mrs.  Decatur  who  at  that  time  lived  in  a little 
cottage  near  Georgetown  College,  and  never  went 
out  except  to  call  on  Aunt  Madison.  She  wore  a 
little  close  bonnet,  and  had  great  sad  dark  eyes. 
Mrs.  Lear  (Mrs.  Tobias  Lear  whose  husband  was 
Washington’s  secretary)  was  another  most  beauti- 
ful old  lady  whom  we  all  called  Aunt,  I suppose 
because  all  the  children  loved  her;  Mr.  Bancroft, 
who  lived  in  the  Ogle  Tayloe  house,  next  door; 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Webster,  whom  I saw  for  the  first 
time ; also  Mrs.  Polk,  who  was  always  so  gracefully 
attentive  to  Mrs.  Madison,  and  was  then  a tall, 
handsome,  young-looking  person  and  much  beloved 
in  society. 

“This  levee  was  over  at  four  o’clock,  when  only 
we  of  the  family  remained  with  Aunt,  who  was 
still  fresh  and  smiling.  I have  a very  distinct 
consciousness  in  connection  with  this  levee  that 
she  disliked  nothing  so  much  as  loud  talking  and 
laughing.” 

The  dress  of  Mrs.  Madison  which  her  niece 

describes  at  her  aunt’s  levee,  and  which  so 

263 


DOLLY  MADISON 


struck  the  youthful  fancy,  was  the  same  in 
which  she  was  painted  by  Wood  in  that  por- 
trait, the  most  familiar  and  the  least  pleasing 
of  all  that  have  come  down  to  us,  though  the 
quaintness  of  attire  and  the  delicacy  of  the 
hand  do  much  to  atone  for  the  set  smile,  and 
stiff  carriage  of  the  head.  A lady  who  knew 
Mrs.  Madison  in  those  days  tells  me  that  she 
said  to  her  a propos  of  the  yards  of  silk  tulle 
which  she  wore  about  her  neck,  that  she  needed 
it  to  give  softness  to  the  face,  and  that  after 
seventy  the  throat  became  a little  “scraggy,” 
and  needed  the  veil  of  tulle  or  lace.  So  ten- 
derly did  time  touch  this  ladjr  of  the  old 
school  that  three  score  and  ten  years  found  her 
still  beautiful. 

“For  her  e’en  Time  grew  debonair 
He  finding  cheeks  unclaimed  of  care 
With  late  delaying  roses  there 
And  lingering  dimples, 

Had  spared  to  touch  the  fair  old  face 
And  only  kissed  with  Vauxhall  grace 
The  soft  white  hand  that  stroked  her  lace 
And  smoothed  her  wimples.” 

In  1844  Mrs.  Madison  was  one  of  the  guests 
on  the  man-of-war  Princeton  at  the  time  of 
the  explosion  of  the  famous  great  gun  ironi- 
cally known  as  “the  Peacemaker,”  which 
might  have  proved  fatal  to  her,  as  it  did  to 
the  marines  standing  near,  but  for  a fortunate 
204 


WASHINGTON  ONCE  MORE 


chance  which  detained  the  ladies  in  the  cabin 
listening  to  the  songs  and  merry-making  of 
tthe  young  people.  The  calamity,  with  its 
attendant  shocking  sights  and  sounds,  made 
so  deep  an  impression  upon  Mrs.  Madison  that 
she  could  never  after  be  induced  to  talk  of  it. 

Meantime  administration  succeeded  admin- 
istration, and  still  Mrs.  Madison  remained,  a 
prominent  figure  in  official  society,  only  the 
more  honored  by  one  president  after  another. 
At  the  inauguration  ball  of  Polk  a great  crowd 
thronged  the  National  Theatre  in  which  it 
was  held.  In  the  midst  of  the  rush  and 
scramble  Commodore  Elliot  fell  victim  to  a 
pick-pocket  and  lost  his  wallet.  Of  all  its 
contents  he  declared  that  what  he  most 
regretted  was  a letter  from  Mrs.  Madison  and 
a lock  of  her  husband’s  hair.  Old  friendship 
was  not  weakened  by  the  flight  of  time. 

In  the  unpublished  diary  of  President  Polk 
we  have  an  account  of  one  of  the  last  levees 
held  during  his  administration,  which  is  also 
closely  associated  with  Mrs.  Madison.  The 
entry  is  dated  Wednesday,  February  seventh, 
1849:  — 

“ General  notice  had  been  given  in  the  City  papers 
that  the  President’s  Mansion  would  be  open  for  the 
reception  of  visitors  this  evening.  All  the  parlours, 
including  the  East  Room,  were  lighted  up.  The 
265 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Marine  Band  of  Musicians  occupied  the  outer  Hall. 
Many  hundreds  of  persons,  ladies  aud  gentlemen, 
attended.  It  was  what  would  be  called  in  the 
Society  of  Washington  a very  fashionable  levee. 
Foreign  Ministers, — their  families  and  suites; 
Judges,  Members  of  both  Houses  of  Congress,  and 
many  citizens  and  strangers  were  of  the  company 
present.  I stood  and  shook  hands  with  them  for 
near  three  hours.  Towards  the  close  of  the  evening 
I passed  through  the  crowded  rooms  with  the  ven- 
erable Mrs.  Madison  on  my  arm.  It  was  near 
twelve  o’clock  when  the  company  retired.” 

Six  months  later  both  the  chief  actors  on 
this  social  scene  were  laid  in  their  graves. 
This  is  the  last  glimpse  we  catch  of  Mrs. 
Madison  at  any  public  function,  and  most 
appropriately  does  it  close.  She  entered 
Washington  official  society  on  the  arm  of 
Jefferson,  and  left  it  on  the  arm  of  Polk,  her 
life,  meanwhile,  public  and  semi-public,  hav- 
ing spanned  nearly  half  a century,  and  covered 
the  administrations  of  nine  presidents. 


266 


XY 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATPI 

And  where  during  all  these  varying  experi- 
ences of  Mrs.  Madison’s  life,  when  she  stood 
so  much  in  need  of  counsel  and  support,  was 
the  son  who  should  have  rendered  both?  This 
was  the  question  which  all  Mrs.  Madison’s 
friends  asked,  and  none  could  answer.  For 
his  mother,  her  feelings  had  been  long  ago 
summed  up  in  a last  vain  appeal  to  his  better 
nature,  when  she  wrote : “ I have  said  in  my 
late  letters  as  well  as  in  this  all  that  I thought 
sufficient  to  influence  you.  1 must  now  put 
my  trust  in  God  alone.” 

Payne  Todd’s  life  presents  a melancholy 
picture  of  wasted  opportunities,  of  grace  and 
charm  blurred  and  at  last  obliterated  by  glut- 
tony and  dissipation,  of  demonstrative  affec- 
tion transformed  into  filial  indifference  and 
ingratitude  by  long  years  of  self-indulgence. 
Yet,  while  this  undutiful  son  was  doing  all  in 
his  power  to  break  his  mother’s  heart,  he  per- 
267 


DOLLY  MADISON 


suaded  himself  that  he  loved  her  and  intended 
to  do  much,  but  always  in  the  future,  to  make 
her  happy.  When  his  debts  had  made  neces- 
sary the  sale  of  Montpellier  and  its  slaves,  he 
soothed  his  regrets  by  building  on  his  estate 
nearby,  known  as  “ Toddsbirth,”  a strange 
conglomeration  of  cottages,  one  of  which  he 
intended  for  his  mother’s  occupancy,  and  so 
arranged  that  by  one  of  its  long  windows  she 
could  enter  a great  tower  wherein  he  had 
planned  a ball-room  and  state  dining-apart- 
ment. Of  course  lack  of  funds  prevented  the 
completion  of  this  eccentric  home,  as  well  as 
the  carrying  out  of  his  scheme  for  a silk-farm, 
for  which,  after  his  usual  unbusinesslike 
fashion,  he  had  brought  over  from  Prance  a 
number  of  silk  manufacturers  before  even  plant- 
ing mulberry-trees  or  hatching  silk-worms. 

His  appetite  he  gratified  as  freely  as  his 
whims;  and  while  Mrs.  Madison  and  her 
devoted  niece  were  struggling  to  secure  the 
bare  necessaries  of  life,  or  dependent  upon  the 
bounty  of  comparative  strangers,  Payne  Todd 
was  in  the  habit  of  sending  to  Europe  for  rare 
cheeses  and  other  table  luxuries.  As  a result 
of  his  free  indulgence,  bis  face  became  bloated, 
and  his  figure  shapeless,  and  so  completely  did 
his  aspect  change  that  few  would  have  recog- 
268 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


nized  in  his  sodden  features  and  heavy  form 
the  alert,  graceful,  laughing-eyed  lad  who  had 
entered  manhood  as  “the  Prince  ” with  brighter 
prospects  than  any  youth  in  America. 

Only  once  more  does  the  shameful  story  of 
Payne  Todd’s  misguided  career  touch  the 
narrative  of  his  mother’s  life.  It  came  upon 
me  with  a shock  of  surprise,  w'hen  among  the 
papers  of  the  Probate  Court  in  Washington  I 
found  the  record  of  the  effort  of  John  Payne 
Todd  to  break  the  will  of  his  mother  in  order 
to  secure  the  bequest  which  she  had  left  to  her 
“dear  daughter,”  Anna  Payne.  Such  mean- 
ness seemed  impossible,  even  for  Payne  Todd. 
It  is  gratifying  to  learn  that  the  jury  declined 
to  accept  his  view  of  the  situation,  and  that 
he  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  the 
money  realized  from  the  sale  of  the  household 
effects.  He  outlived  his  mother  by  two  years, 
and  then  perished  miserably  of  typhoid  fever 
in  a Washington  hotel,  no  one  save  negroes 
near  him,  and  with  only  one  friend  to  follow 
him  to  his  unmourned  grave  in  the  Congres- 
sional Cemetery. 

A sadly  forlorn  life  indeed  would  Dolly 
Madison  have  led  in  these  latter  days  but  for 
the  affection  of  her  nieces  and  nephews;  but 
this  surrounded  her  unfailingly  to  the  last, 
269 


DOLLY  MADISON 


and  the  youthful  companionship  which  they 
drew  around  her  was  the  best  solace  for  her 
increasing  disposition  to  melancholy. 

Anna  Payne  was  full  of  mirth,  and  not  too 
sedate  for  such  school-girl  pranks  as  inviting 
the  President  of  the  United  States  to  dine  on 
April-Fool’s  Day,  and  making  merry  over  the 
discomfiture  of  her  aunt  and  her  guest  when 
the  jest  was  discovered.  Mrs.  Madison  par- 
doned this  escapade,  as  she  found  it  easy  to 
pardon  many  things  to  youth.  She  was  indeed 
one  in  Avhom  the  spirit  of  youth  was  eternally 
asserting  itself  under  all  the  aging  experiences 
of  life,  and  something  within  her  drew  all 
young  folks  very  close  to  her  heart.  Of  this 
chord  of  sympathy  they  were  as  sensible  as 
she. 

A few  months  before  her  death,  Miss 
Dalilgren,  the  young  sister  of  the  admiral,  at 
the  conclusion  of  a call  on  Mrs.  Madison,  said 
to  her : “ I have  a new  autograph  album,  and 
I must  have  you  write  in  it  before  any  one 
else.”  Her  cordial  hostess,  throwing  her 
arms  around  her,  answered,  “Well,  you  dar- 
ling little  flatterer,  if  you  will  get  me  a good 
quill,  I will  do  it.  I cannot  write  with  these 
new-fangled  steel  pens.”  The  quill  was  found, 
and  the  desired  autograph  written. 

270 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


DOLLY  MADISON 


The  characteristic  of  this  quotation  con- 
tributed to  Miss  Dahlgren’s  album  is  the  same 
which  marked  all  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  utterances 
by  tongue  or  pen,  that  propriety  without  origi- 
nality which  distinguished  her  and  contributed 
so  much  to  her  success.  Had  she  had  more 
wit  she  had  surely  had  more  enemies;  had  she 
had  less  humor  she  would  have  won  fewer 
friends ; but  the  nice  balance  with  which  she 
held  all  things  subject  to  good  sense  and  good 
taste  was  her  strongest  claim  to  the  esteem 
which  she  enjoyed. 

It  was  no  easy  task  in  Mrs.  Madison’s  day 
for  folk  of  consequence  to  escape  the  intrusion 
of  the  autograph -hunter,  and  in  Washington 
the  evil  reached  its  climax.  Women  waited 
outside  the  door  of  the  Senate  with  open  albums, 
ready  to  beset  the  first  man  who  ventured  out. 
Others  besieged  the  court-rooms,  and  boldly 
sent  up  their  little  autograph  volumes  to  the 
judges  on  the  bench  with  an  accompanying 
request  for  “just  a line,”  until  public  men 
were  forced  to  keep  on  hand  a supply  of  appro- 
priate sentiments  or  verses  of  gallantry  to 
satisfy  the  collector’s  greed  of  their  admirers. 
Doubtless,  however,  they,  like  President  Mon- 
roe, found  the  flattery  sufficiently  sustaining 
to  atone  for  the  fatigue. 

The  Italian  proverb  declares  a white  wall 
272 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


the  fools’  paradise,  and  it  is  no  less  true 
that  an  autograph  album  is  the  fools’  pillory. 
In  turning  the  rainbow-tinted  leaves  of  our 
grandmothers’  albums  and  Tokens  of  Friend- 
ship we  are  often  tempted  to  smile  over  the 
sentimental  sighings,  and  worst  of  all  the 
facetious  fatuity  which  have  preserved  the 
memory  of  the  signers’  silliness  to  the  second 
and  third  generation ; but  Dolly  Madison  was 
by  far  too  shrewd  a woman  to  fall  into  such 
self-committing  folly,  and  the  various  “ele- 
gant extracts,”  signed  by  her  name,  which 
exist  in  old  autograph  collections  are  inva- 
riably well  found  and  neatly  turned  quotations, 
as  in  Mrs.  J.  J.  Roosevelt’s  album,  where  she 
copied  a sonnet  to  Lafayette  with  the  accom- 
panying reflection : “The  memory  of  departed 
virtue  is  inscribed  upon  the  soul  like  writing 
upon  adamant.  ” 

As  Mrs.  Madison  advanced  in  life,  writing 
of  any  sort  became  increasingly  difficult  on 
account  of  her  failing  eyesight,  and  her  niece 
added  to  her  many  other  offices  the  duty  of 
amanuensis.  Her  handwriting  so  closely  re- 
sembled that  of  her  famous  aunt  that  a note 
from  her  satisfied  both  autograph  hunters  and 
acquaintances,  thus  relieving  Mrs.  Madison  of 
a serious  tax  on  her  time  and  strength. 

As  her  age  advanced,  even  the  social  duties 
18  273 


DOLLY  MADISON 


of  Washington  life  began  to  weigh  heavily 
upon  Mrs.  Madison,  yet  to  the  end  her  house 
continued  a centre  of  hospitality.  Not  very 
long  before  her  death  her  younger  nephew, 
Richard  D.  Cutts,  Jr.,  was  married  in  her 
drawing-room,  and  the  wedding  reception  was 
one  of  the  largest  of  the  year  at  the  capital. 
His  bride  was  one  of  the  namesakes  of  Martha 
Jefferson,  and  well-known  in  society;  and  the 
united  acquaintance  of  the  two  families  made 
a throng  which  taxed  the  Lafayette  Square 
house  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

All  this  hospitality  was  conducted  out  of 
pure  good-will  and  in  a sincere  desire  to  con- 
tribute to  the  happiness  of  others.  For  her- 
self, the  pleasure  in  it  was  deadened  by  the 
graver  experiences  of  life.  “My  dear,”  she 
said  once  to  a young  relative  who  was  in 
affliction  on  account  of  some  misadventure, 
“ do  not  trouble  about  it ; there  is  nothing  in 
this  world  worth  really  caring  for.  Yes,”  she 
said  once  more,  “ believe  me,  I who  have  lived 
so  long  repeat  to  you,  there  is  nothing  in  this 
world  really  worth  caring  for.  ” 

Her  mind  dwelt  more  and  more  in  the  happy 
days  of  the  past,  and  from  the  troubles  of  the 
present  she  sought  refuge  in  the  consolations 
of  religion.  In  this  matter  her  peculiar  tem- 
perament showed  itself  with  great  distinct- 
274 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


ness.  Her  tendency  to  reflect  the  opinions  of 
those  whom  she  loved  and  respected  was  par- 
ticularly marked  in  this  direction.  John 
Payne  was  a sturdy  Friend,  and  his  daughter 
hid  her  pretty  face  beneath  the  broad-brimmed 
Quaker  bonnet,  and  murmured  “ thee  ” and 
“ thou  ” as  meekly  as  any  “ Deborah  ” in  the 
City  of  Brotherly  Love.  John  Todd  continued 
in  the  Quaker  traditions,  and  his.  wife  knew 
no  other  opinions.  James  Madison,  on  the 
contrary,  was  a disciple  of  the  Jeffersonian 
school  of  thought,  considered  in  those  days 
dangerously  latitudinarian.  The  clergyman 
of  the  Church  of  England,  who  came  often 
to  visit  his  pious  mother  and  administer  the 
communion  which  her  advanced  age  forbade 
her  taking  in  church,  found  in  Madison  a 
courteous  but  non-committal  listener ; and  a 
good  bishop  reluctantly  records  : “ I was  never 
at  Mr.  Madison’s  but  once,  and  then  the 
conversation  took  such  a turn,  though  not 
designed  on  my  part,  as  to  call  forth  some 
expressions  and  arguments  which  left  the  im- 
pression on  my  mind  that  his  creed  was  not 
strictly  regulated  by  the  Bible.” 

Yet  here,  as  in  every  other  department  of 
life,  Madison’s  course  was  marked  by  modera- 
tion, and  his  wife  loyally  followed  his  lead. 
Neither  joined  any  communion,  but  both  were 
275 


DOLLY  MADISON 


regular  attendants  at  the  quaint  old  brick 
church  in  the  centre  of  Orange  Court  House 
four  miles  from  Montpellier.  After  Madison’s 
death,  when  his  widow  came  back  to  Washing- 
ton, she  continued  her  regular  attendance  at 
the  little  church  of  St.  John  on  Lafayette 
Square,  and  only  a stone’s  throw  from  her 
house.  Mr.  Hawley,  the  rector,  and  an  old 
friend,  easily  persuaded  her  of  her  ardent  wish 
to  become  a communicant;  and  here  she  was 
accordingly  baptized  and  confirmed  by  Bishop 
Whittingham  of  Maryland. 

As  the  year  1849  drew  on  toward  summer,  it 
became  evident  to  those  around  her  that  Mrs. 
Madison’s  life  was  drawing  to  a close,  yet  her 
mind  remained  clear  till  near  the  end,  and 
even  when  her  intellect  failed  her  loving  heart 
showed  itself  true  to  the  last.  Her  “poor 
boy  ” was  often  in  her  thoughts,  and  her  arms 
were  stretched  out  affectionately  to  all  who 
entered  her  sick  room. 

In  July  she  began  to  realize  that  her  days 
were  numbered.  Her  will,  dated  July  ninth, 
1849,  begins  after  the  accepted  form  of  the 
day:  — 

“In  the  name  of  God,  Amen!  I,  Dolly  P. 
Madison,  widow  of  James  Madison  of  Virginia, 
being  of  sound  and  disposing  mind  and  memory, 
but  feeble  in  body,  having  in  view  the  uncertainty 
276 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


of  life  and  the  rapid  approach  of  death,  do  make, 
publish  and  declare  the  following  to  be  my  last  will 
and  testament.” 

The  signature  is  a feeble  trembling  scrawl, 
sadly  differing  from  the  round  clear  hand  of 
other  days.  The  witnesses  to  the  will  were 
Sally  B.  L.  Thomas,  wife  of  Dr.  Thomas,  Eliz- 
abeth Lee,  and  James  Madison  Cutts.  The 
will  bequeathed  “ to  my  dear  son,  J ohn  Payne 
Todd,  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  one 
half  the  sum  appropriated  by  the  Congress  of 
the  United  States  for  the  purchase  of  my  hus- 
band’s papers.”  “To  my  adopted  daughter, 
Annie  Payne,”  the  other  half  of  this  purchase 
money  is  bequeathed,  and  the  remainder  of 
the  property,  real  and  personal,  is  left  to  be 
distributed  as  the  law  directs. 

When  Payne  Todd  afterwards  disputed  this 
will  in  the  effort  to  secure  the  amount  of  this 
bequest  left  to  Anna  Payne,  then  the  wife  of 
Dr.  Causten,  the  value  of  the  estate  was 
brought  out  before  the  court.  The  amount  in 
hank  was  sworn  to  as  twenty-two  thousand 
dollars;  the  household  furniture  and  plate 
were  estimated  at  nine  hundred;  the  books  at 
five  hundred ; the  pictures  and  portraits,  four 
of  them  painted  by  Gilbert  Stuart,  five  thou- 
sand; and  the  negro  slaves  two  thousand.  The 
ground  of  the  attack  on  the  will  is  not  men- 
277 


DOLLY  MADISON 


tioned  in  the  records,  but  the  question  finally- 
submitted  to  the  jury  was  whether  that  will 
was  “ the  true  last  will  and  testament  of  said 
Dolly  P.  Madison,”  and  the  verdict  was 
“yes.” 

In  the  settlement  of  the  estate  the  household 
furnishings  were  put  up  at  public  auction. 
Anna  Payne  was  very  anxious  to  secure  the 
Stuart  portrait  of  her  aunt,  and  hearing  that 
Mr.  Corcoran  intended  securing  it  for  his 
gallery,  she  went  to  him  and  begged  him  not 
to  bid  against  her.  Deeply  touched,  Mr. 
Corcoran  declared  that  she  should  have  it, 
and  to  her  accordingly  it  fell. 

The  making  of  her  will  was  almost  the  last 
act  of  Mrs.  Madison’s  life.  This  was  done  on 
Monday,  while  she  lay  ill.  On  Tuesday  the 
Washington  bulletins  announced  that  Mrs. 
Madison  was  better,  and  her  nearest  friends 
rejoiced  in  the  hope  of  a rally,  but  it  proved 
deceptive.  While  listening  to  a chapter  from 
the  Gospel  of  St.  John  she  fell  into  a deep 
sleep,  never  to  recover  full  consciousness.  The 
physicians  pronounced  the  attack  apoplexy, 
and  after  two  days  she  quietly  breathed  her 
last  on  Thursday  evening,  the  twelfth  of  July, 
1849. 

In  death  as  in  life  she  held  the  interest  not 
only  of  her  immediate  friends,  but  of  the  out- 
278 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


side  world,  and  it  was  decided  to  hold  a public 
funeral  on  Monday  the  sixteenth,  in  old  St. 
John’s  Church,  whose  tiny  dome  and  pictur- 
esque steeple  had  been  for  years  the  most 
familiar  objects  to  Dolly  Madison’s  vision. 
Here  within  its  cool,  shadowy  aisle,  before  the 
chancel,  the  coffin  rested ; and,  in  order  to 
gratify  the  desires  of  the  public,  it  was  an- 
nounced that  the  remains  would  be  visible 
until  the  commencement  of  the  ceremonies. 
When  those  were  ended,  the  coffin  was  borne 
to  the  Congressional  Cemetery,  followed  by  a 
procession  such  as  has  seldom,  if  ever,  done 
honor  to  the  memory  of  any  woman  in  this 
country.  The  order  previously  arranged  was 
as  follows : — 

The  Reverend  Clergy, 
Attending  Physicians, 

Pall  bearers. 

Hon.  J.  M.  Clayton,  Hon.  W.  M.  Meredith,  'Mr. 

Gales,  Mr.  Ritchie,  Gen.  Jessup,  Gen.  Totten, 
Com.  Morris,  Com.  Warrington,  Gen.  Hen- 
derson, Mr.  Pleasanton,  Gen.  Walter 
Jones,  Mr.  Pendall. 

The  Family. 

The  President  and  Cabinet. 

The  Diplomatic  Corps. 

279 


DOLLY  MADISON 


Members  of  tire  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives 
at  present  in  Washington,  and  their  officers. 
Judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  and  Courts  of  the 
District  and  their  officers. 

Officers  of  the  Army  and  Navy. 

Mayor  and  Corporation  of  Washington. 

Citizens  and  Strangers. 

Thus  with  much  pomp  and  circumstance, 
with  deep  grief  and  true  love,  Dolly  Madison’s 
body  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  Washington 
cemetery,  but  not  to  remain  there  forever. 
Some  years  later  it  was  removed  by  Mr. 
Richard  Cutts  to  the  most  fitting  resting-place 
by  the  side  of  her  husband,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  beloved  walls  of  Montpellier. 

On  a beautiful  day  of  Indian  summer  I 
opened  the  gate  of  the  Madison  burying-ground, 
and  passed  between  the  low  Avails  of  crumbling 
moss-grown  brick  which  hedge  it  in  from  the 
waste  of  meadow  stretching  away  to  the  foot 
hills  of  that  Blue  Ridge  which  towers  like 
some  great  guardian  spirit  above  all  the  region. 
In  one  corner  of  the  enclosure,  side  by  side,  I 
found  two  monuments,  — one  a simple  granite 
shaft  erected  to  the  famous  son  of  Virginia  by 
his  brethren  of  the  Old  Dominion,  and  marked 
simply  “ Madison ; ” the  other  a smaller  obelisk 
of  white  marble  standing  out  somewhat  crudely 
280 


OLD  AGE  AND  DEATH 


against  the  mellow  tones  of  the  mottled  brick. 
On  this  was  carved : — 


IN 

* E M 0 R $■ 


OF 

DOLLEY  PAYNE 

WIFE  OF 

James  Madison 
bokn 

MAY  20TH,  1768 
DIED 

JULY  8TH,  1819 

As  I noted  the  superfluous  “ e ” in  the  name, 
and  the  wrong  date  set  down  as  the  day  of  her 
death,  I wondered  if  these  misstatements  per- 
petuated in  marble  had  power  to  disturb  the 
tranquillity  of  her  who  slept  below.  But  as  I 
stooped  and  parted  the  periwinkle  which  runs 
riot  above  her  grave,  I seemed  to  hear  once 
more  Dolly  Madison’s  soft  southern  voice  say- 
ing soothingly,  “Nothing  in  this  world  is  of 
much  moment,  my  dear.  ” 


281 


INDEX 


Adams,  Abigail,  description 
of  Washington  and  of  the 
White  House  in  3800,  80  ; 
on  Mrs.  Madison’s  influence, 
132. 

Adams,  John,  on  living  in 
Philadelphia,  48  ; impres- 
sions of  Mrs.  Madison,  72  ; 
inauguration  of,  74. 

Ames,  Fisher,  on  lodgings  in 
Philadelphia,  48 ; anecdote 
of,  261. 

Assemblies,  the,  68  ; rules 
for,  69  ; toilets  for,  70. 

Bacon,  Captain,  stewardship 
of,  at  Monticello,  223. 

Balmaine,  Rev.  Dr.,  59. 

Barbour,  James,  222. 

Barbour,  Philip,  222. 

Barlow,  Joel,  letters  of,  147. 

Bill  of  Rights,  Virginia,  pur- 
pose of,  15. 

Blaine,  James  G-,  on  Mrs. 
Madison  as  a political  force, 
142. 

Burr.  Aaron,  acquaintance  of, 
with  Mrs.  Todd,  49  ; intro- 
duces Madison  to  her,  50  ; 
appearance  and  character  of, 
55  ; duel  of,  with  Hamilton, 


100  et  seq.  ; conspiracy  of, 
102  ; trial  of,  117. 


Ci.ay,  Henry,  anecdote  of, 
191. 

Coles,  Mary,  marriage  of,  5; 
Jefferson’s  admiration  for, 
76. 

Creighton,  Hugh,  25. 

Cutts,  James  Madison,  mar- 
riage of,  235. 

Cutts,  Richard  D.,  marriage 
of,  99. 

Cutts,  Richard  D.,  Jr.,  mar- 
riage of,  274. 

Dandridge,  Dorothea  Spots- 
wood,  3 ; marriage  of,  to 
Patrick  Henry,  3 ; marriage 
of,  to  Judge  E.  Winston, 

3. 

Dandridge,  Nathaniel  W.,  3. 

Dawson,  Joshua,  letter  of, 
198. 

De  Warville,  Brissot,  on  Mad- 
ison, 50. 

Dickens,  Charles,  description 
of  Washington  in  1842, 
257. 


INDEX 


Drinker,  Elizabeth,  journal 
of,  23 ; ancestry  of,  23  ; 
opinion  of  Gray’s  Ferry, 
41. 

Ekskine,  David  Montague, 
succeeds  Merry  as  British 
Minister,  90. 

Fleming,  Anna,  marriage  of, 
4 ; ancestry  of,  4. 

Floyd,  Catherine,  engagement 
of,  to  Madison,  52. 

Floyd,  General  William,  52. 

Freneau,  Philip,  congratula- 
tions of,  63. 

Gates,  General  Horatio,  con- 
gratulations of,  63. 

Giles,  Governor,  invitation  of, 
241. 

Gray’s  Ferry,  pleasure  resort 
for  Philadelphians,  41. 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  duel  of, 
with  Burr,  100  et  seq. 

Henry,  Patrick,  marriage  of, 
3 ; intense  loyalty  of,  13. 

Irving,  W.,  description  of 
Washington  Society,  139;  his 
opinion  of  Mrs.  Gallatin,  161. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  enter- 
tained In-  Mrs.  Madison. 
190. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  sympa- 
thy of,  53  ; arguments  of, 
to  dissuade  Madison  from 
retiring  from  public  life,  71; 
affection  of,  for  Mrs.  Mad- 
ison, 76  ; inauguration  of,  83; 
experiences  of,  with  Merry, 


87  ; state  dinners  of,  93  ; in- 
ventive fancy  of,  106 ; sec- 
ond term  of,  108  ; anecdote 
of,  129  ; as  a guest  at  Mont- 
pellier, 223  ; as  a host  at 
Monticello,  223 ; death  of, 
237  ; sale  of  effects  of.  238. 

Jennings,  Paul,  on  burning 
of  Washington,  176. 

Johnson,  William,  Jr.,  letter 
of,  197. 

Madison,  Bishop  J.,  congratu- 
lations of,  62. 

Madison,  Mrs.  E.  C.,  descrip- 
tion of,  206  ; death  of,  240. 

Madison,  Dorothea  Payne 
Todd,  birth  of,  3 ; ancestry 
ot,  4 ; the  training  of.  in  girl- 
hood, 9;  arrival  of,  in  Phil- 
adelphia, 18  ; Quaker  gaye- 
ties  of,  23  : visits  of.  to  neigh- 
boring villages,  24 ; marriage 
of,  to  John  Todd,  30;  views 
of,  on  matrimony,  31  ; the 
Quaker  marriage  ceremony, 
32  ; miniature  portrait  of, 
34  ; early  married  life  of,  36 ; 
birth  of  first  son  of,  38  ; birth 
of  second  son  of.  39  ; flight 
of,  from  Philadelphia  to  es- 
cape yellow  fever,  40  ; death 
of  husband  and  second  son 
of,  44;  return  of,  to  Philadel- 
phia, 47 ; acquaintance  of, 
with  Burr,  49 ; meets  Madi- 
son, 50  ; engagement  of,  to 
Madison,  56 ; marriage  of, 
59  ; journey  of,  to  Montpel- 
lier, 61  ; social  life  of,  in 
Philadelphia,  66  ; influence 
of,  over  her  husband,  71; 
secret  of  the  charm  of,  73  ; 
life  of,  in  Montpellier  during 


2b4 


INDEX 


Adams’s  administration,  75; 
goes  to  Washington  at  Jeffer- 
son's invitation,  80;  wife  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  84  ; 
portraits  of,  98 ; letters  of,  to 
her  sister,  100  ; one  element 
of  the  success  of,  101 ; inti- 
macy of,  with  Theodosia 
Burr,  103  ; illness  of,  109; 
wife  of  the  President,  120; 
the  White  House  in  the  time 
of,  133 ; instance  of  the  tact  of, 
144;  friendship  of,  for  the 
Barlows,  147  ; demeanor  of, 
during  war  of  1812,  155  et 
seq.  ; as  a hostess,  163  ; min- 
iature portrait  of,  painted  in 
1813,  167 ; journal  of,  on 
burning  of  Washington,  172; 
flight  of,  from  the  city,  176; 
occupies  the  Tayloe  house, 
185 ; entertains  Andrew  Jack- 
son,  190 ; departure  of,  from 
Washington,  199  ; life  of,  at 
Montpellier,  204  et  seq.  ; 
devotion  of,  to  Madison's 
mother,  208;  disappointment 
of,  in  her  son,  213;  daily  du- 
ties of,  214  ; gifts  presented 
to,  217;  visitors  at  Mont- 
pellier, 220 ; visit  of  Harriet 
Martineau  to,  228 ; letter  of, 
243;  death  of  husband  of, 
247 ; response  of,  to  resolu- 
tions of  Congress,  250  ; re- 
turn of,  to  Washington,  254; 
distress  of,  caused  by  her 
son,  259;  receives  aid  from 
Congress,  260 ; description 
of,  in  her  old  age,  261  ; nar- 
row escape  of,  264 ; auto- 
graph of,  271 ; death  of,  278  ; 
will  of,  277;  funeral  of, 
279. 


Madison,  James,  enters  public 
life,  12;  meets  Mrs.  Todd, 
50;  public  services  of,  51; 
first  love  affair  of,  52;  its 
sequel,  53 ; appearance  and 
character  of,  55 ; marriage  of. 
59;  journey  of,  to  Montpel- 
lier, 61 ; tired  of  public  life, 
71;  in  the  Virginia  Assem- 
bly, 78;  made  Secretary  of 
State  by  Jefferson,  84;  po- 
litical opponents  of,  118; 
elected  President,  120;  in- 
auguration of,  125;  part 
pla3^ed  by,  in  the  war  of  1812, 
153  et  seq.  ; re-elected  Presi- 
dent, 166;  weak  defence  of 
the  capital,  169  et  seq.  ; 
flight  from  the  city-,  177  ; re- 
covers popularity  with  peace, 
188 ; at  the  end  of  his  second 
term,  193;  retires  to  Mont- 
pellier, 201;  kindness  of,  to 
his  wife’s  relatives,  209;  let- 
ters of,  215  et  seq.  ; his  love 
of  horses,  245 ; death  of,  247 ; 
resolutions  of  Congress  in 
honor  of,  249 ; report  of  pro- 
ceedings of  Constitutional 
Convention,  251  ; will  of, 
251. 

Martineau,  Harriet,  visit  of, 
to  Montpellier,  228  et  seq. ; 
estimate  of  Mrs.  Madison, 
234. 

Mason,  George,  on  the  war, 
13. 

McKean,  Sally,  marriage  of, 
68 

Merry,  Anthony,  relations  of, 
with  Jefferson  and  Madison, 
78  et  seq.  ; succeeded  as  Brit- 
ish Minister  by  Erskine, 
90. 


285 


INDEX 


Monroe,  James,  description  of, 
136 ; death  of,  239. 

Montpellier,  situation  of,  61; 
description  of.  202  et  seq.  ; 
visitors  to,  220. 

Morris,  Gouverneur,  descrip- 
tion of  Washington  by,  79. 

Payne,  Anna,  portrait  of,  98; 
marriage  of,  99. 

Pavne,  John,  grandfather  of 
Polly  Madison,  4;  arrival  of, 
in  Virginia,  4;  marriage  of,  4. 

Payne,  John,  Jr.,  marriage 
of,  to  Mary  Coles,  5;  return 
of,  to  Virginia,  5;  life  of, 
in  Colonial  days,  6 ; enters 
the  Continental  Army,  12; 
Quaker  principles  of,  14; 
frees  his  slaves,  16;  arrival  of, 
in  Philadelphia,  18;  becomes 
a lay  preacher,  25;  opposi- 
tion of,  to  slavery,  27 ; death 
of  35 ; will  of,  admitted  to 
probate,  73. 

Pajme,  Lucy,  marriage  of,  35  ; 
makes  her  home  with  Sirs. 
Madison,  139. 

Payne,  Mary,  made  executrix, 
73;  death  of,  120. 

Philadelphia,  appearance  of, 
in  1783,  18;  the  people  of, 
19 ; customs  of  the  Friends 
in,  21;  three  classes  of  soci- 
ety in,  22;  living  expenses 
in,  29;  devastated  by  yellow 
fever  in  1793,  39  et  seq.  ; 
society  of,  from  1794  to  1797, 
67 ; foreign  visitors  to,  68. 

Phvsick,  Dr.  Philip  Svng,  109. 

Polk,  James  K.,  on  hand-shak- 
ing, 255;  inauguration  of, 
265 ; unpublished  diary  of, 
265. 


Preston,  William  C.,  anecdote 
of,  144. 

Randolph,  John,  early  educa- 
tion of,  11. 

Randolph,  Martha  Jefferson, 
89  ; letter  of,  to  Jefferson,  96. 

Seaton,  Mrs.  William,  de- 
scription of  a White  House 
dinner,  163. 

Smith,  Mrs.  Margaret,  descrip- 
tion by,  of  Mrs.  E.  C.  Madi- 
son, 208. 

Todd,  John,  a teacher,  36; 
death  of,  43;  will  of,  43. 

Todd,  John,  Jr.,  marriage 
of,  to  Doll}'  Payne,  30; 
family  of,  30 ; practice  of,  as 
a lawyer,  36;  death  of,  44; 
will  of,  40. 

Todd,  John  Payne,  birth  of, 
38;  at  school,  149;  dissipated 
habits  of,  211;  visit  of,  to 
Europe,  212;  debts  of,  259; 
death  of,  269. 

Todd,  William  Temple,  birth 
of,  39;  death  of,  44. 

Van  Ness,  Mrs.  John  P.,  a 
social  leader,  137. 

Washington,  City  of,  named, 
78 ; described  b}-  Gouverneur 
Morris,  79;  by  Abigail 
Adams,  80;  society  of,  115; 
condition  of,  in  1809,  135; 
society  of,  described  by  W. 
Irving,  139;  capture  and 
burning  of,  178;  described 
by  Dickens,  257. 

Washington,  George,  at  Gray’s 
Ferry,  42;  on  matrimony, 


286 


INDEX 


57;  farewell  of,  74;  death 
of,  77. 

Washington,  George  Steptoe, 
marriage  of,  35. 

Washington,  Martha,  on  Dolly 
Todd's  engagement  to  Madi- 
son, 56. 

Wetherell,  Samuel,  sermons  of, 
26. 

Wigton,  Earl  of,  4. 


Winder,  General,  defence  hv, 
of  Washington,  169. 
Winston,  Judge  Edmund, 
marriage  of,  3. 


Yellow  Fever,  Plague  of,  in 
Philadelphia  in  1793,  39  et 
seg. 


287 


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